


The Exceptional Bad Boy - Destiel High School AU

by fangirlKC



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abusive John Winchester, Alastair (Supernatural) Being an Asshole, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alcoholic John Winchester, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Bad Boy Castiel (Supernatural), Bad Boy Dean Winchester, Best Friends, Big Brothers, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Bottom Castiel (Supernatural), Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Bottom Dean Winchester, Boyfriends, Broken Castiel (Supernatural), Brothers, Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Castiel and Dean Winchester in Love, Creepy Alastair (Supernatural), Cute Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Depression, Destiel - Freeform, Drugs, Eventual Happy Ending, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Friendship, Funny Castiel (Supernatural), Funny Dean Winchester, Gay Castiel (Supernatural), Happy Ending, Kissing, Love, Love Confessions, Love at First Sight, M/M, Minor Character Death, Openly Gay Castiel (Supernatural), Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Problems, Sad, Sad and Happy, Sad with a Happy Ending, Slow Build, Slow Build Castiel/Dean Winchester, Slow Burn, Smut, Stalking, Suicidal Castiel (Supernatural), Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Swearing, Tattooed Castiel (Supernatural), Tattoos, Top Castiel (Supernatural), Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Top Dean Winchester, True Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-13 15:08:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 35
Words: 283,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14115018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirlKC/pseuds/fangirlKC
Summary: Again, they move to a new town and Dean is so sick of always moving around and always being the new kid at school. And he wants something better for his little brother Sam. But their father can't manage to keep a job for longer than two months.No matter where they are, there is one thing that is always the same though. Dean's reputation as bad boy. It was never a problem that there were other bad boys, because Dean was always the worst. But now, he has keen competition – Castiel Novak. Covered in tattoos, drinking, smoking, doing drugs, breaking other people's noses... Novak's reputation precedes him. But that he's still different than every bad boy Dean's ever met is pretty clear though, from the very first moment they meet.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello guys :) this is my first Destiel fanfiction and I hope you'll enjoy it. Please let me know what you think. I'd be really happy about comments.  
> Also, english isn't my first language, so please let me know if there are any major mistakes. I already apologize in advance.  
> ~ KC

“I don't like it here.“

  
  


These are the first words that come out of his brother's mouth since they arrived two hours ago. Dean looks up from where he is sitting on the floor, surrounded by a few moving boxes and holding a flannel shirt in his hands, and he sees Sam, standing in the doorway to his room. Dean has kept the door open. Sam is worrying his lower lip between his teeth and there is an unsure expression in his eyes. He looks at him and repeats his words, emphatically now. “I don't like it here.“

  
  


He keeps his voice low so their father can't hear them, but it's more than obvious that he's tired and sad. Dean returns his look for a moment before glancing past his brother into his room. Sam's room is just as chaotic as Dean's room. There are boxes and bags, scattered on the floor and the bed, and he knows that it will take a while to clear out everything. And the other rooms are also full of boxes and things that need to find a place yet. Moving is just a hell of a lot of work.

  
  


And Dean lost the interest in packing and unpacking after the third time they moved into a new town. Now, it's just exhausting and annoying. He's so sick of putting things into bags and boxes and of having to uncrate everything again. He barely remembers what it felt like to be excited about it.

  
  


“Dean, I don't want to stay here. I want to go back to Bobby.“ Sam stares at him pleadingly and Dean can just stare back for a moment. Sam looks miserable. He's tired and sad, and his hair and his sweatshirt are too long. He's barefoot and he taps his toes against the wood floor. His feet have to be cold and Dean wonders why he isn't wearing socks at least. He looks back up at Sam's face.

  
  


“I know, man,” Dean says, fiddling with the shirt in his lap. “I know. But we can't. This is our home now.“ He tries to sound optimistic for his little brother, but Sam snorts. “Yeah, for how long? Two months? Or three? Or maybe four months this time?“

  
  


Dean can't blame Sam for thinking like that. He scratches his neck. “Maybe. Or maybe we're staying longer this time. We don't know that yet, but let's make the most of it.“ Dean has said these words before, every time they arrived at a new house. _Let's make the most of it._ He's tired of these words and Sam is probably too, but what else is there to say? What else are they supposed to do, what else is _he_ supposed to do? As the big brother he has to keep on smiling and thinking positive and being optimistic, even though he doesn't feel like it.

  
  


“Yeah, sure,“ Sam says unconvinced, looking at his bare feet. Of course, Sam doesn't believe him. He has heard those words too often. And words can lose their meaning, when they're said too many times. Dean licks his lips, he wants to say something else – anything that will cheer his little brother up, if only for a while, because that's his job – but their father's voice interrupts them.

  
  


“Dean! Sam!“

  
  


Sam looks up, grimacing. Dean sighs, closing his eyes for a moment before shaking his head, putting the shirt back into a bag and getting up. Sam still has his puppy eyes fixated on Dean, he's even curling his lips, and Dean would give him what he wants, if he was able to. He just can't resist this look on Sam's face, he can't say no to his little brother – he's physically unable to do so. But there is nothing he can do. He can't give Sam what he wants and it pisses him off. It pisses him off that Sam isn't happy and that he hasn't smiled for a week. He hasn't smiled since their dad has entered Bobby's house and announced with a sour voice that he got fired. If he is honest, Dean has seen it coming and so did Bobby. They've even talked about it, when John has started to come back home late again, day after day after day, and it only got later and later every night. One day, he still came back before midnight and the next he came back around 3 am, reeking of alcohol and passing out on the couch. Dean already knew this procedure, but he hoped for Sammy – and also for himself – that they would have more time. He shouldn't be surprised anymore that he doesn't get what he wants.

  
  


But it just makes him angry. Because the next morning, they had breakfast and John stumbled into Bobby's kitchen, hungover, and just grumbled in Bobby's direction that they were going to move out. That was the moment, when Sam stopped smiling. Dean followed John into the living room, asking what happened, although he already knew it. John didn't answer him, he just repeated that they were going to move out. Bobby stepped into the living room as well and Dean glanced back to the kitchen. Sam sat there, staring at the table with sloping shoulders. He gritted his teeth and practically _begged_ John to stay, but his father merely shook his head. Bobby tried to convince his old friend to stay, offering him a job at his garage. The glare John shot Bobby was full of rage and Dean backed away, although the anger wasn't directed towards him right now. He just did it out of habit. But Bobby held John's gaze until John shrugged his shoulders and went to his room. The following days were filled with either tense silence or raging voices. The discussion about staying or leaving ended with a beer bottle thrown against the wall, Sam crying in his room and a punch to Dean's jaw.

  
  


Bobby apologized to Dean when they sat in the kitchen together later, some time after John had gone out again. But Dean stopped him with a wave of his hand and just pressed the ice pack to his face, accepting the beer Bobby handed to him. That was two days ago.

  
  


They left Bobby's house this morning and arrived at their new house sometime in the afternoon. And Dean can understand Sam, when he says he wants to go back to Bobby's place. Dean wants to go back as well. But they can't. So he puts his hands on Sam's shoulders and turns him around, ignoring the glare he gets. He gives his brother a little push towards the stairs.

  
  


John Winchester is standing in the small kitchen and right now he's putting plates in one of the cupboards. Sam hesitates before he slumps down on one of the chairs around the kitchen table and Dean leans against the door frame, watching John carefully. But he seems to be in a good mood right now so Dean allows himself to relax a bit. There is a moment of silence and Dean wonders why their father called for them. Sam shoots him a questioning look. Dean shrugs and winks at Sam; he doesn't want him to worry. It seems that they don't have anything to worry about at the moment, but you never know with John Winchester.

  
  


“What do you say?“ John asks them, breaking the silence, and Dean just looks at him, not knowing what he means. “The house,” John clarifies, waving his hand in an all-embracing movement and making clear what he means.

  
  


Sam mumbles something, looking at the old wooden table. Dean didn't understand what he said. Though, he is sure that Sam didn't say something nice about the house. John turns around. Either he didn't hear Sam's words as well or he did. Dean swallows. He's not really sure what he's supposed to say, but he already sees the anger flaring up in John's eyes, because of Sam. “It's okay, I guess,” he says hurriedly and John looks at him. For a moment, they just look at each other and then John nods, seeming pleased.

  
  


“Yeah, I suppose it is,” he says, looking around once before uncrating some cups out of a box next to his feet. Dean bites his lip, wondering for a few seconds if their dad has actually seen the house. But he supposes that it doesn't really matter. John looks relaxed again and _that_ is what matters.

  
  


Dean looks over to Sam, who rolls his eyes. His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but Sam already looked away again. Dean frowns. It's more than obvious that something's wrong with Sam and he knows already what it is, but normally it is Sam who tries to calm John down again. Normally, it's Dean who lets the words slip out of his mouth without thinking about it. He can feel worry settling in his guts, while he's looking at his little brother.

  
  


He glances at John who doesn't pay them any attention anymore, what is probably a good thing. Dean clicks his tongue once to get Sam's attention. Sam looks up, seeing Dean nodding towards the stairs, and he gets the hint. He gets up and walks over to Dean quietly. With one last look at their father, they slip into the hallway, go back upstairs and into Sam's room. Dean decides that he's going to help his little brother with the unpacking. He sits down on the floor just like he did in his own room, pulling one of the boxes closer and having a look what's inside of it. He looks up and Sam is lying on the bed. He's just staring at the ceiling and his brow is furrowed.

  
  


“Come on, man. You'll feel better when your room isn't a mess anymore,” Dean says, knowing how squeamish Sam is when it comes to the neatness of his room. But Sam doesn't even listen to him, as if he doesn't care about how his room looks right now. That's definitely not a good sign.

  
  


“Why did you say the house is okay?“ Sam asks, pressing his eyebrows even more together.

  
  


“What was I supposed to say?“ Dean asks back, taking some books out of the box and putting them on the floor. He looks at the naked walls. They have to get Sam some shelves for all his books. He takes another book into his hands, pondering where to put them for now. He can't just put them in the middle of the room. Biting his lip, he thinks he should just leave them in the box for now, but then he eyes the corner next to Sam's closet. Dean sighs. Well, the floor has to be good enough for the books, at least for a while.

  
  


“I don't know, the truth?“ Sam scoffs and watches Dean going to the wall next to his closet, dragging the box with the books behind him and flopping down on the floor again.

  
  


Dean rolls his eyes, starting to stack up the books against the wall. “You know how dad would have reacted, if I told him the truth.“

  
  


“Does he actually thinks the house is okay? I mean, it seems like he _likes_ it.“

  
  


“I don't know. Maybe he does. And maybe it's really not that bad,” Dean mutters, staring at some books that belong clearly to Bobby. But he doesn't say something about it and just puts them on the floor next to the others. Bobby will let them know, when he wants to have them back – if he'll ever notice that six of his hundreds of books are missing. And maybe he even gave them to Sam as a parting gift, because he knows how much Sam wanted to stay.

  
  


Sam huffs a small humorless laugh. “Have _you_ actually seen the house?“

  
  


“We're here for like two hours. Don't you think it's a little bit early to say that _everything_ is bad?“ Dean points out. Sam has a lot of books and it takes him a few minutes to stack them all up properly, but eventually he's done. Sam doesn't answer him and Dean glances up at his little brother again, feeling worry digging its claws into his stomach like an aggressive cat. Sam is chewing on his lower lip, still glaring at the ceiling as if it was to blame for everything. He looks so _angry_.

  
  


“Hey,” Dean says softly, pushing himself onto his feet and going over to Sam's bed. He sits down on the edge and smiles at his little brother. Sam doesn't return the smile. They look at each other for a moment, then Sam looks away. “Sammy, come on,” Dean tries, but Sam just shakes his head.

  
  


“I don't want to be here,” he whispers and swallows hard.

  
  


“I know.“ Dean doesn't know what else to say. And he knows how much this all sucks.

  
  


During the following hour, he puts Sam's clothes into the closet and he has to get a screwdriver, because one of the doors almost falls off. Sam regards that with a resigned stare, but he doesn't say anything. While Dean repairs the closet, he darts glances at his brother every now and then, but Sam doesn't really move. With every passing minute, his worry grows and grows. He feels anger boiling in his veins, but he shakes his hands and puts the screwdriver back into the tool box. He can't show his anger in front of Sam, because Sam will think that he's angry with him – _for being angry_. And that couldn't be further from the truth.

  
  


Dean could never be actually angry with Sam. He's angry with their dad. He's angry at the world. He's angry with himself. He's so fucking angry all the time. He doesn't want to be here as well and he's so furious that John made them pack their things and just leave _once_ _again_. He's angry at the world, because if things weren't the way they are, everything would be different. And he fucking _hates_ himself for not being able to talk John out of leaving.

  
  


He feels Sam staring at his back and closes his eyes for a second. Then he turns around and looks into another box. He kneels down and stares at the photo albums, the notebooks and several photos in different kinds of frames. He gulps, taking one of the framed photos into his hands. A small smile touches the corners of his mouth. This photograph is a _happy_ memory. He doesn't know who took it, but his _whole_ family stands in front of their old house in Kansas, smiling at the camera because life was good back then. He looks at the younger version of his dad in the photograph, at the big smile on his face, and he knows he hasn't seen him this happy since...

  
  


He looks at Sam. Little Sammy who is just a bundle of blankets and a patch of brown hair in the photo. He doesn't look at himself, how he's waving in the arms of his father. And he also doesn't look at the fourth person in the photo. Because although it's a happy memory, it still makes him sad. He wants to think about it, he wants to remember the good times. But he always feels so hollow after it. Maybe because he knows that they can't go back and that things will never be like they once were. He holds the photo tightly in his hands and stands, walking over to Sam's bed. Dean places the photo on the nightstand.

  
  


Sam cocks his head and looks at his brother's face questioningly before he has a look at the photo. He sits up and takes it into his hands. This way Dean can't see Sam's face anymore. But when Sam looks back up again, his eyes are wet, though he doesn't start crying. He nods to Dean. When he puts the photo back on the nightstand, a small smile is playing on his lips. Dean takes that as an equally small victory.

  
  


He feels even better when Sam actually gets up and goes over to a particular box. Dean doesn't know what's in there, but then Sam pulls it towards his desk and gets his pencil case out of the box. His school supplies. Dean sighs in relief. _That_ is a good sign. He joins Sam next to the box and helps him to put his heavy textbooks on the desk and on the window sill. Sam gets his notebooks, some empty and some with drawings and little texts on the white paper, and puts them in a drawer. Dean is pleased with how much better Sam's room already looks, even though it still looks kind of empty. But it's tidier than before and that's a start. They will put some shelves on the walls for Sam's books and maybe also some color. A few posters would look nice, too. Dean thinks about getting _Star_ _Wars_ posters and maybe _Harry_ _Potter_ posters, but just because Sam likes it. It's Sam's room. He is supposed to feel content in here. And Dean knows that is something he can do for his little brother – he can make his room look nice. Maybe then Sam will accept this house as a temporary home.

  
  


At some point, John calls them again. This time, Sam doesn't need to be pushed. Dean follows him downstairs and into the kitchen. John is already sitting at the table. They have a late dinner together that just consists of canned ravioli that stuck to the root of Dean's mouth. But he doesn't complain and neither does Sam. He has the feeling that there are moments when John doesn't even realize he's eating or that his sons are also in the room. They don't talk and Dean focuses on the food and his surroundings, in order not to let the heavy thoughts that are crawling in the back of his mind come to the front.

  
  


Their new kitchen is really small. The cupboards look crammed together and the white paint is peeling off the wood. Dean knows they need a repaint and he also knows that he's probably the one who has to do it. But as soon as he gets some wall color for Sam's room, he can also get some paint for the cupboards. Maybe Sam will help him with the paint. The fridge is an old thing that buzzes loudly, which is the only sound right now besides them eating and the scratching of their forks on the plates. The stove and the counter seem like they have seen better days. To be honest, the entire house seems like it has seen better days. They're going to know after a few days how much of a problem this will be. But when Dean glances at his dad, he looks pleased.

  
  


Maybe it's just because they managed to be here in time or because he got them some food or because they have a house at least. Dean doesn't know. But John is actually _smiling_ and Dean won't complain. As long as there is no fight, no shouting, no punches – it's okay. John is sober and in a good mood. They will see for how long it will last this time.

  
  


Sam doesn't eat a lot, but Dean doesn't mention it and neither does John. Though, Dean doubts that he even notices it. But Sam does eat a little bit and for now that's enough. Dean just has to keep an eye on his little brother and ensure that he eats more the next days.

  
  


When they finish eating, John leaves the kitchen without saying a word. Dean blinks at his father as he walks over into the living room. Sam looks after their dad as well and then at Dean. He is clearly annoyed but Dean just shrugs. They can hear John rummaging around through the boxes in the living room. At least, he helps unpacking this time. At least, he's here. At least, there wasn't a fight since they entered the house. At least, John is sober.

  
  


Dean does the dishes and Sam helps him. Sam still looks not even remotely content and Dean darts a glance at him every now and then. He tries to convince himself that they just need some time. They just need some time to adjust in this new house, in this new town. They just need some time. Dean needs some time. And Sammy also just needs some time. He just doesn't know how much time. But he hopes it won't be too long. He doesn't like seeing his brother sad or angry. It makes him feeling sad and angry as well, especially if there's nothing he can do to help Sammy.

  
  


John however doesn't notice Sam's mood – or he ignores it or he just doesn't care. Sometimes, he is hard to read, especially when he's sober. Even though that doesn't happen so often.

  
  


When they are done with the dishes, the clock on the microwave shows that it's 9:28 pm and John comes back into the kitchen. He doesn't say anything about the dishes or that he just left after dinner without helping to clean up. Neither Dean nor Sam mentions it. Their father just calls it a night, because tomorrow is Monday – his first day at the new job and Sam's and Dean's first day at the new school. John disappears into his bedroom that is downstairs. They aren't allowed to go into John's bedroom, no matter where they are. Dean doesn't question it anymore. He thinks it's just one of John Winchester's habits that he adopted after the incident that changed their lives. John adopted quite a few habits after it, if Dean thinks about it – like drowning his feelings and thoughts in alcohol and hitting his children and not keeping a job longer than for a few months.

  
  


Dean follows Sam upstairs and into his room again. His eyes dart over the two remaining boxes and he sighs. “We'll finish this over the next days, okay?“ he says tiredly. Sam just nods and they brush their teeth quickly in the tiny bathroom before they go back to Sam's room. All the rooms are kind of small but they will have to do it. And the bathroom may be tiny, but they have a shower, a sink, a cabinet and a toilet, so they can't really complain. It was only the first day and although Sam doesn't like it here – yet –, they already had worse 'homes'. Dean remembers the four months when they lived in the car most of the time or for a couple of nights in a _very_ cheap motel. At least they have a roof over their heads that doesn't belong to a car, but rather to an actual house.

  
  


But he can understand Sam. After the last three months, this is a royally degradation. The last three months at Bobby's house were like _heaven_. Sam and he shared a room and Dean already misses it. He misses Bobby and the comfort of his house. It felt like _home_. And now, they have... _this_. So yes, he can absolutely understand Sam when he says he wants to go back to Bobby. Dean wants the same. But the day John Winchester accepts help like financial support is the day hell is going to freeze. Dean still wonders how they managed to convince him to move into Bobby's house, when John got a job in Sioux Falls.

  
  


Sam lies down onto his bed and Dean tucks the blanket around his brother and ruffles his hair. Sam grumbles and smooths his hair back down. It's going to be a mess anyway when he wakes up tomorrow. The kid really needs a haircut, but Dean's afraid they won't have the money for it. He will have to reach for the scissors, but it won't be the first time. Hopefully, Sam won't mind.

  
  


“Hey, tomorrow is another day,” Dean reminds his little brother who yawns and rubs at his eyes, blinking up at him.

  
  


“I don't want to go to school tomorrow,” Sam says quietly. Dean's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but then he sees how sad Sam looks once again. “Who are you and what have you done with my brother?“ he jokes, because Sam _loves_ learning and going to school. But Sam doesn't smile and Dean sighs, sitting down on the edge of the bed. He ignores that the worry inside of him is on its way up, starting to chew at his heart slowly.

  
  


“Listen, I know how you feel. I'm not saying that I'm happy with this, but we can't change it. And we just have to make the most out of the situation.“ He tries again to sound as optimistic as possible, smiling down at Sam.

  
  


“I don't want to be the new kid again,” Sam complains.

  
  


“Me neither,” Dean tells him earnestly. And that's it. There is nothing he can say right now to cheer his little brother up and he knows that. But he lets him know that he feels the same and that he's not alone. It pisses him off that that's the only thing he is able to do for Sammy right now.

  
  


He gives his brother another small smile. “Try to sleep now.“

  
  


Sam sighs but he closes his eyes, and Dean gets up and walks over to the door, switching the light off. With one last look at his brother, he closes the door behind him and enters his own room. He ignores the mess and just pulls some sweatpants and a t-shirt out of a bag. He started to sort through his own boxes, but mostly he helped Sam with his stuff today.

  
  


Dean shrugs. He's tired. Because of having to say goodbye to Bobby. Because of the long drive. Because of being careful around his father. Because of trying to make Sammy feel better. Because of sifting through boxes yet again. He just wants to sleep. Tomorrow is their first day at the new school and he is so not looking forward to it.

  
  


He changes his clothes and slumps onto his bed. While he's slowly falling asleep, he thinks that he should do something nice with his room as well. But first he has to take care of Sammy's room.

  
  


Dean is almost over that edge, he is on the brim of falling asleep, when he remembers it. _Fuck_. Before they left, he promised Bobby to call him when they have arrived. He groans and contemplates doing that in the morning, but he knows Bobby wouldn't be so keen about that. He's probably already pissed that he hasn't heard anything from him yet. Therefore, he opens his eyes again and grabs his phone.

  
  


Bobby answers the call after the second ringing. “They say the short-term memory gets worse when you're older, so can you imagine yourself in like 60 years? You will forget something _before_ you even thought about it.“

  
  


Dean huffs a small laugh. “I'm sorry, Bobby. It was kind of a stressful afternoon.“

  
  


“Excuses, excuses, excuses,” Bobby grumbles, but Dean can hear the smile in his voice.

  
  


“You know me, Bobby.“

  
  


“Yeah, that's why I wanted you to call me.“

  
  


“Ah, so not just because you wanted to know if we arrived safely?“

  
  


“As if I cared about that,” Bobby snorts, but then his voice gets serious. “How are you?“

  
  


“I'm fine,” Dean replies without hesitation. _I'm fine –_ his standard answer to the infamous question _how are you?_ , no matter who's asking it.

  
  


“Sure,” Bobby says. He doesn't push Dean but he knows exactly that he's lying. And Dean knows that Bobby knows. “How's your dad?“

  
  


“Sober,” Dean answers and Bobby grunts. “Well, _that's_ something.“

  
  


“Yep,” Dean agrees, trying to stifle a yawn.

  
  


“And how's Sam?“

  
  


“He needs some time, I guess, but he'll be fine,” Dean says, trying to convince himself more than to convince Bobby.

  
  


“You guess, huh? Alright, and tomorrow is your first day at school? I promise this is the last question,” he chuckles, when Dean stifles another yawn.

  
  


“Yeah, tomorrow is our first day,” Dean affirms.

  
  


“Dean, it may be not my business and I'm not trying to tell you how to live your life,” Bobby starts after a moment of silence and Dean frowns. He can imagine what Bobby is going to say and he doesn't want to hear it. “But try to be... _not_ like you were at the other schools.“

  
  


Dean grits his teeth. Yeah, he so didn't want to hear that. Of course, he knows what Bobby is talking about, but he doesn't know what to tell him.

  
  


“For Sam?“ Bobby adds now and Dean feels guilt pooling in the pit of his stomach. He swallows. He can't promise Bobby this. He knows that he will break this promise so where's the point in disappointing him even more?

  
  


“I have to sleep now,” he mumbles, pressing his phone to his ear. He hears Bobby sighing.

  
  


“Okay. But call me every now and then, just to let me know how things are going.“

  
  


“Yeah, of course, Bobby.“

  
  


“And hey, Dean?“

  
  


“Yes?“ Dean asks, biting his lip.

  
  


“Be careful. And take care of yourself.“

  
  


“Always. Good night,” Dean says, closing his eyes. He waits until Bobby said good night as well before ending the call and tossing his phone to the side. Another yawn climbs up his throat and he tries to muffle all the thoughts in his head. He rolls over, facing the wall.

  
  


He knows that Bobby is right. And **'For Sam'** is a pretty, _pretty_ good reason why he should try it at least. But he doesn't know if he'll be able to change. He's just so fucked up and he knows that. He's actually _sorry_ for Sam because he has him as a brother. So, he won't ever promise _anyone_ that he will change because he doesn't want to see the sadness, disappointment and anger that come along with broken promises.

  
  


How often has John Winchester promised that he will change? That he will stop drinking? That he will keep a job longer than for a few months? That they won't have to move again? Dean lost count. And at some point, John just _stopped_ to promise these things.

  
  


Dean doesn't want to think about that right now, though. He really just wants to sleep. But it takes hours for his mind to calm down enough to get some rest.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

“Dean! Dean, come on. Wake up!“

  
  


This is how he's woken up the next morning. He gets jolted awake by his little brother who's shaking his shoulder roughly. Dean groans and blinks his eyes open, rolling on his back. Sam stands next to his bed, already dressed, and his hair looks like it has actually seen a hairbrush this morning. Dean stares at him for a few seconds, surprised and still tired, and then he finally notices the fear in Sam's eyes.

  
  


“What's wrong?“ he asks cautiously and looks at his alarm that he forgot to set yesterday. He was too busy trying to fall asleep. But it's just shortly after seven o'clock. He still has at least half an hour to get ready and to eat something. He hasn't overslept like he thought he had.

  
  


Dean rubs his eyes to make the tiredness go away, but it doesn't really work. He sits up and studies Sam's face, wrinkling his forehead. “What's wrong?“ he stresses now, because Sam didn't answer him.

  
  


Sam is chewing on his lip again and his eyes dart to and fro, to the open door and back to Dean's face, again and again. Dean follows his gaze but there is nothing at the door. He swallows and looks back at his little brother.

  
  


“It's dad,” Sam says now, keeping his voice as low as possible.

  
  


“What about him?“ Dean asks, warily.

  
  


“He wants to have breakfast with us,” Sam whispers. “And he's getting angry, since you aren't up yet. He wanted to wake you but I said I'll do it. You have to get up. _Now_.“ Sam speaks faster than usual, the words are rushing out of his mouth urgently.

  
  


Dean is confused and really super fucking tired, but Sam's fear is contagious. He folds back his blanket and gets up. He hasn't gotten a lot of sleep last night and the weariness makes his brain slow. He blinks down at Sam, only processing slowly what Sam is saying.

  
  


“Dad wants to have breakfast with us?“ he repeats Sam's words wonderingly. They sound weird. He doesn't understand it.

  
  


“Yes,” Sam says. “Can you _please_ hurry up?“

  
  


“Uh, sure,” Dean mutters, being finally awake enough to understand the seriousness of the situation at least. It's no laughing matter when John Winchester is angry. They both know that far too well. He gulps. “Tell dad I'm gonna come down in a few minutes.“ He grabs some fresh clothes and Sam nods, watching Dean disappear into the bathroom before going downstairs again.

  
  


Dean showers in under three minutes and puts his clothes on quickly. He runs his fingers through his wet hair a few times and then it sticks up everywhere. He barely looks in the mirror, though. He doesn't have the time and he really couldn't care less what he's going to look like on the first day at the new school. The shower woke him up completely and he doesn't want to leave Sam alone with their dad any longer. Not when he is angry, not when he is in a bad mood. Though, he doesn't know what has gotten into John. They never have breakfast together. Why today?

  
  


He goes downstairs and he enters the kitchen. John and Sam are sitting at the table. Sam is biting is lip, his chin is quivering and he looks like he's on the verge of crying. Dean clenches his hands into fists at the sight, but then Sam locks eyes with him and shakes his head slightly, sneaking a glance at their dad and looking down again. John is staring at Dean and even though he looks relatively calm, his lips are pressed together to a thin line and his eyes are hard. When Dean just stands at the door, he lets out an exasperated sigh. “Are you planning on sitting down at some point on your own or do you need an invitation?“

  
  


Dean flinches, even though he doesn't want to show any weakness in front of his father. Besides, John spoke with a normal volume. He didn't shout at him, but his anger is clearly visible now. He raises an eyebrow at Dean when he finally sits down next to him, across from Sam. Actually, Dean doesn't want to be so close to John right now. He wants to be as far away as possible from his dad, to tell the truth. But Sam is sitting right next to John and if he starts to throw punches, he should better aim at Dean and _not_ at Sam.

  
  


Sam swallows, his throat ripples slightly, and he still hasn't stopped biting his lip. He probably tries to suppress the tears because if he starts to cry now, John is definitely going to be really furious. John never wants to see any tears.

  
  


Dean is sure the best is just to play along with what John wants to do – having breakfast together.

  
  


He looks at the table and there are some sandwiches and fried eggs on two plates in the middle of the table. He prefers scrambled eggs, but he wouldn't dare to complain right now. He has the feeling that he is supposed to say something, because John just sits there and stares at him with a cold and calculating look in his eyes. Why is it so easy to forget that John Winchester is somehow even more scarier and dangerous when he's sober, as he is when he's drunk? Maybe it has something to do with the fact that he's rarely completely sober.

  
  


“This looks really good,” Dean says after another long moment of silence. His voice is calm and steady to his relief and he returns the look of his dad without blinking. After a few more tense seconds, John gives him a small smile and looks at the table as well.

  
  


“Thanks.“ He nods to Dean and starts to put fried eggs on everyone's plates. Sam and Dean glance at each other briefly and Dean smiles at his little brother. Sam relaxes a bit and takes a bite from his sandwich. John starts to eat as well and although Dean isn't that hungry, he does the same.

  
  


The sandwiches are basically just dry toast with cheap cheese and (cold) canned tomatoes, the coffee is kind of watery and the fried eggs are a bit too salty and a bit too burnt for his liking. But what has he expected? John hasn't made a proper breakfast _in years_ , so this is actually quite good for his first try after such a long time. Though, Dean still misses the breakfast at Bobby's house with good sandwiches, _scrambled_ eggs, fresh and crispy bacon,... He should stop thinking about that and just be glad that they actually have something to eat. That John actually remembered to buy food. It isn't a given that they have something to eat, because either John just forgets to buy something or he spends their few money on cheap spirits.

  
  


Dean does feel a little bit better when he sees that Sam finished off his whole plate. John is pleased with himself again when he also notices it, but Dean suspects that Sam only ate so much to put John in a better mood again. After all, Dean did the same thing. As long as John is pleased and as long as they can manage to keep him in a good mood, it's fine. That's why they let him think that the breakfast he made was actually good. Maybe it will get better when he does it a few times. But Dean doesn't know if they're going to continue having breakfast together, or if this was just a one-off.

  
  


They do the dishes and clean up the kitchen together, which is kind of awkward. Dean doesn't really know what to say or to do and neither does Sam. John is actually calm again, but they still don't talk with each other. Dean doesn't want to say the wrong thing and literally _anything_ could be the wrong thing. John simply needs to misunderstand or mishear something, so Dean figures it's better not to talk at all.

  
  


Sam and he go upstairs to get their backpacks when it's time for them to leave and go to school. Dean's backpack is actually packed and ready for school, but just because Sam did it. He insisted on it so Dean let him do it. Sam slings his backpack over his shoulder and looks nervously at Dean when they go downstairs again. But he doesn't say anything. He doesn't say again that he doesn't want to go to school, probably because he knows that it wouldn't do any good. John doesn't want to hear something like this. And he's calm right now. Sam is smart enough not to ruin that.

  
  


Their father sits in the kitchen, a newspaper in front of him on the table and another cup of coffee in his hand. For a moment, Dean is confused but then he remembers that his dad has the late shift today. He takes a deep breath before he knocks on the door frame once to get his dad's attention. John looks up from the article he's reading and there is such poise in his eyes that it hurts. Dean wonders for how long it will go well before it all begins to crumble again. He swallows. “We're gonna go now,” he says, tightening his grip around the straps of his backpack marginally.

  
  


“Have a nice day,” is all John says and then he continues reading. Unsure, Dean turns around to Sam who looks at him with raised eyebrows, but he just shrugs and mumbles “Thanks, you too.“

  
  


He pushes Sam to the front door and out of the house before John's mood is able to change suddenly – what happens every now and then and for no apparent reason. They step out the door and Dean closes it quietly, following Sam over their front lawn and down the street. He knows where the school is, because he was there when Sam looked it up at his laptop in the room they shared in Bobby's house. Besides, it's a small town. The school and the hospital are probably the biggest building here anyway.

  
  


They have to walk for barely 20 minutes but it's cold. It's fucking cold and they're both shivering. Their breath is a foggy cloud in front of their faces and Dean just wants to get inside of the building where it's hopefully warm. But when they're almost there, Sam stops walking. Dean doesn't notice it at first, taking a couple more steps before he sees that Sam isn't beside him anymore. He stops, too, and turns around, staring at his brother questioningly. Sam looks downright uncomfortable, he has an uneasy expression on his face and he's shifting from one foot to the other. If Dean didn't know better, he'd say Sam has to pee.

  
  


But he _does_ know better.

  
  


He looks over his shoulder at the school building and then back to Sam who holds his gaze for only two seconds before looking down at his feet. Dean sighs and walks over to Sam, kneeling down in front of him so that Sam is the one who's looking down at him. But Sam avoids to look him in the eye again.

  
“Maybe it won't be too bad,” Dean says quietly, letting a small smile grace his lips. “Mh?“ He raises his eyebrows.

  
  


“I don't want to be the new kid again,” Sam mumbles and Dean chews on the inside of his cheek. He knows what Sam means, knows how he feels. But there is nothing he can do. He closes his eyes and shakes his head. When he opens his eyes, Sam sheepishly glances down at him.

  
  


“Do you think I'm weak?“ Sam asks quietly, so quietly that Dean almost doesn't hear it. His forehead creases in confusion. He cocks his head to the side, looking at his brother's face who's sadly looking back at him.

  
  


“Why would I think that?“ Dean wonders.

  
  


“Because I'm scared,” Sam explains, looking back down at his feet. “Because I don't want to be the new kid again.“

  
  


Dean grits his teeth, because it hurts him when Sammy is hurting. He hates this. “Hey, listen to me, Sammy,” he says softly, waiting until Sam meets his eyes again. “You are _not_ weak. You're one of the strongest and bravest people I know. And it's okay to be scared. It's okay when you don't want to do something. And I'm really sorry that you have to do this, but you _can_ do this. I believe that you can do it.“

  
  


A smile tugs at the corners of Sam's mouth. “Do you really think that?“

  
  


“Of course. I'd never lie to you,” Dean says, smiling back at him. “And if someone messes with you, I'm gonna rip their fucking lungs out.“

  
  


“Yeah, sure,” Sam snorts, actually smiling now. “Thank you, Dean,” he adds after a few seconds.

  
  


“Always, Sammy.“ Dean stands and together, they start walking towards the school again. But they only made a few steps when Sam begins to speak again. “Hey, Dean?“

  
  


Since Sam is walking behind him, Dean has to look over his shoulder. “What?“

  
  


“It's _Sam_ , not Sammy.“

  
  


Dean chuckles. “Sure, Sammy,” he says and winks. He can practically hear how Sam rolls his eyes at him.

  
  


They enter the school building and walk through the unfamiliar hallways, past the lockers and the other students who are already staring at them. Sam walks a little bit faster so he's next to Dean again. “You have no idea where we're going, right?“ he asks, looking up at him. Dean just shrugs his shoulders. They have to get their timetables and to enroll. Actually, he doesn't really care about this but he does it for Sam. He thinks it's the best when they go to the secretariat. He just doesn't know where they have to go to get there.

  
  


“We could ask someone the way,” Sam suggests, when Dean just stops in the middle of a hallway because he really doesn't know where to go and he doesn't want to wander around aimlessly anymore.

  
  


“Smartass,” he mutters under his breath. He is pretty sure that Sam heard him, since he looks like he wants to launch into replying to Dean's comment, just when someone steps up to them.

  
  


“You must be Dean and Sam Winchester,” the man says with a friendly smile, holding his hand out for them to shake. “Hello, I'm Mr. Wyatt.“

  
  


“Hello, I'm Sam,” Sam says politely and shakes Mr. Wyatt's hand. Dean does it, too. “So, you're the guy they sent off to show us around?“ he asks, studying the teacher's face. He ignores the glare he gets from Sam. Mr. Wyatt doesn't look offended, though; he actually huffs a small laugh.

  
  


“No Dean, sadly I'm just the one who has the pleasure of greeting you,” the teacher says, smiling, both apologetically and jokingly. Out of the corner of his eye, Dean sees that Sam is smiling as well. He decides that he likes Mr. Wyatt, even though he is a _teacher_. He made Sammy smile, although he's really feeling down, and that means a lot to Dean. Though, he won't admit it. He just decides for himself that Mr. Wyatt is okay – for a teacher.

  
  


“You'll both get someone – a student – to show you around,” Mr. Wyatt continues, looking around in the hallway, thinking. “Ah yes, what a lucky coincidence.” He chuckles. “Please, wait a second.“

  
  


Dean and Sam look after him when he disappears around a corner. Dean assumes that the teacher has seen someone who could show them around. The other students still stare at them when they walk past them, and all Dean sees is curiosity in their faces. But he still doesn't like it. Sam doesn't seem to be very happy with all the staring either. They both just know how much it sucks to be the new kid. They know that _too well_.

  
  


Two minutes later, Mr. Wyatt comes around the corner with two students in tow. He smiles at them and then nods at the girl and the boy. “Sam, this is Becky,” he says and points at the girl. “She will show you the school today and answer your questions if you have any.“

  
  


Becky is probably 13 years old, just like Sam. Dean can't decide if her hair is light brown or dark blonde, but he is also quite distracted by the big grin on her face. She seems pretty excited about the task given to her. “Hi,” she squeaks, waving excitedly. Sam briefly glances at Dean before forcing a smile towards her, muttering a hello. Dean tries not to burst out laughing and coughs into his hand, getting another glare from Sam.

  
  


Sam really doesn't look happy when he follows Becky down the hallway. Dean feels bad for him but it's also kind of hilarious. Even Mr. Wyatt looks like he has to suppress his laughter.

  
  


“Well, the reason why I chose these two is that Becky is in Sam's first class this morning, just like Gabe here is in your first class, Dean,” Mr. Wyatt says, pointing at the boy now. “I just thought it would be the most convenient way,” he explains, just as the first bell rings.

  
  


“The class starts in five minutes so you better hurry up,” he says, smiling at Dean and clapping him on the shoulder. Then, he leaves him alone with the boy who hasn't said a word yet. Dean notices that the hallway is empty besides them by now.

  
  


“Gabe, right?“ he asks, looking at the boy but not offering his hand for him to shake. The boy stares at him for a few seconds but he doesn't offer his hand for Dean to shake as well.

  
  


“Gabriel,” he corrects him. “Only my friends can call me Gabe.“ He smirks at Dean who raises an eyebrow. _Okay._

  
  


“Fine. _Gabriel_ , then,” Dean replies snidely, not sure what to think.

  
  


“Let's go, you don't want to be late on your first day, kiddo,” Gabriel says and starts walking. Dean rolls his eyes and follows him through the hallways.

  
  


“Don't call me kiddo,” Dean tells him harshly, when he caught up with him again.

  
  


“Don't tell me what to do,” is Gabriel's only comment to that, and Dean shoots him an annoyed glare but Gabriel doesn't look impressed. He chuckles, pointing a finger at Dean and looking at him as if he only realized now he's walking beside him.

  
  


“I wasn't so sure what to think of you but now I know,” Gabriel says, adjusting the strap of his backpack on his shoulder. Dean creases his forehead in confusion. This Monday is _really_ not going like he wanted it to. First, the tense and awkward breakfast with John and now he's probably stuck with this weird ass guy for the rest of the day.

  
  


“What do you mean?“ he asks, because Gabriel stopped talking, waiting for Dean to react first.

  
  


“Well, of course I saw your clothes right away, but _pfffh_ , everyone can dress like this, can't they? And I sure as hell don't want to judge anyone just by their clothes.“

  
  


Dean looks down at himself and his clothes. He's wearing is usual blue jeans and a black t-shirt with an AC/DC logo and a red flannel shirt under his brown leather jacket. He scoffs and looks back at Gabriel who's making another waving movement with his hand towards Dean.

  
  


“But now, with the glare and everything, and the way you're talking,” he continues, “you're giving off these vibes.“ Gabriel is nodding but probably more to himself.

  
  


“What vibes?“ Dean asks, getting more and more annoyed.

  
  


“Bad boy vibes,” Gabriel answers, grinning. Dean gives him another glare but he's not offended. He's glad, although he shouldn't be. He remembers what Bobby said to him when they were talking on the phone yesterday. But he makes the guilt go away before it can settle in his bones.

  
  


He _is_ a bad boy. He always was, no matter where they were. He always had the reputation of a bad boy. And he didn't promise Bobby anything. He plans on getting the same reputation here as always. After all, it's the only thing he's good at.

  
  


A few other people are walking through the hallways and they nod at Gabriel or say hi, and stare at Dean curiously. Dean doesn't pay them much attention and before Gabriel can say more, they arrive at the classroom and enter it silently. Gabriel goes over to his seat immediately and Dean just stands there for a second, gritting his teeth. They have math and their teacher is some old guy who introduces himself as Mr. Redfield. Dean just nods and slumps down on his chair. He has to sit in the front row and he hates it. He'd rather sit in the back of the class. He can feel the others stare at his back but he ignores it for now.

  
  


The lesson goes by surprisingly fast, maybe because Dean is just daydreaming and not listening to the teacher right in front of him at all. However, the bell rings and Dean looks up, stuffing his notepad and textbook back into his backpack, wondering why he even bothered to put them on his table. He didn't take any notes, didn't even open his book. Mr. Redfield didn't say anything about it though; maybe he doesn't care or he simply didn't notice it.

  
  


Gabriel waits outside for him next to the door, but he starts walking down the hallway without saying a word to him. Dean just follows him. They go to the secretariat and meet Sam and Becky there. They both get their timetables and get told that there are some rules here, just like at any other school. No alcohol, no drugs, no fights. As if Dean cared about that.

  
  


Scowlingly, Sam tags along after Becky again when they leave the secretariat. Apparently, Becky never stops talking and she's already doting on Sam. Dean would feel sorry for his little brother if he wasn't stuck with Gabriel. The guy wears a Hawaiian shirt _in the middle of January_. Dean wonders to what group Gabriel belongs here but then he figures that he doesn't really care. And it doesn't even matter. From tomorrow on, he won't ever have to talk to this guy again.

  
  


“Okay, listen kiddo,” Gabriel says and stops at the end of a hallway. Dean presses his lips together and shoots Gabriel one of his death glares. He knows how dangerous and intimidating he can be. After all, he never had a reputation of a bad boy for free. But Gabriel just snorts at him and puts his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

  
  


“I'll show you where your locker is and then I have to get something done,” Gabriel says and starts walking again. He looks at Dean and asks “You're going to survive a few minutes without me, right?“ Gabriel talks with a voice he would use while talking to a little kid, and he is definitely getting more and more on Dean's nerves.

  
  


“I'll be more than happy if I have a few minutes where I don't have to see your ugly face,” Dean decides. Gabriel just laughs. “Oh, you have a sense of humor. That's great!”

  
  


Dean begins to wonder what is wrong with this guy. Or is something wrong with him? He never had any problems with getting his reputation as a bad boy. Maybe he has to smash some faces first or throw some punches. But he usually doesn't get in a fight on the first day for the sake of Sammy.

  
  


They go to his locker that is in the middle of some hallway and Gabriel explains the way to his next class, after he sneaked Dean's timetable out of his hand. Then, he just goes away and Dean feels his anger flashing through his skull again. But he just shakes his head and puts all the stuff he doesn't need anymore into his locker.

  
  


He doesn't pay attention in his next class as well and just doodles on a random page of his notepad with a scowl on his face. When he leaves the classroom, Gabriel isn't there and Dean is actually glad about it. Some kid, maybe a little bit older than Sam, walks past him, staring at him blatantly. “Do you have a problem?“ Dean snaps, glaring at the boy who shakes his head quickly and starts walking faster. A few people stare at Dean but he just gives them a cold look and then they turn away. _Finally, a normal reaction_ , he thinks.

  
  


He finds a bathroom and takes a quick piss, but his mood doesn't brighten when he washes his hand and Gabriel enters the room. “Ah, Dean-o, there you are,” he says loudly, leaning against one of the sinks. Dean grabs a paper towel and he doesn't say anything so Gabriel just continues talking. “What did the poor kid do to you?“ he asks with a smirk. Dean stares at him. So, word travels fast here. Though, he just raised his voice a little bit at the kid. He didn't really do something to him.

  
  


The bell rings and Dean just pushes past Gabriel out of the bathroom, but the guy follows him, grinning from ear to ear. “What's so funny?“ Dean asks roughly.

  
  


“You'll get it soon enough,” Gabriel answers, but he doesn't stop grinning. Dean runs his fingers through his spiky hair, exhaling slowly. This guy is starting to wear him out. The rest of the way to Dean's next class, they walk in silence though, and Dean just pretends Gabriel isn't there, in order to prevent himself from slamming the guy's head into one of the lockers.

  
  


His next class is Biology and he sits down in the last row, apparently taking the seat of another boy who entered the room right behind him. Dean glares at him coldly and he doesn't even have to say something. The boy just gulps and sits down elsewhere. Pleased, Dean notices that the boy sits as far away from him as possible. He is sure that he's going to get the same reputation as always, no matter how weird Gabriel is behaving. Though, he wonders _what_ he is supposed to get soon.

  
  


When the class is over, Dean is one of the firsts to leave the room and he spots Gabriel down the hallway, talking to some Asian looking kid. They fist bump and Gabriel walks over to him. “Lunch break,” he exclaims, grinning once again. “This is going to be so much _fun_. You have no idea how much you brighten up my Monday,” he tells Dean, as they start strolling through the hallways again. Dean assumes they're on their way to the cafeteria.

  
  


“Dude, I have no idea what you're talking about,” Dean states, rolling his eyes.

  
  


“Okay, Dean-o. Strain your ears and listen closely to what I'm going to tell you,” Gabriel demands and Dean sighs, annoyed by Gabriel's strangeness once again.

  
  


“Hey, this is very important,” Gabriel explains. “You already got told all these rules from the hot secretary, but honestly, _who cares about those_?“

  
  


Before Dean can actually answer, Gabriel just continues. “I'll tell you the _real_ rules that are dominating this high school.“

  
  


Dean's eyebrows shoot up in surprise but Gabriel actually caught his interest. “Go on,” he decides. After all, he wants to know the reason _why_ this guy doesn't seem to be impressed by him.

  
  


Gabriel chuckles. “You come here and you think that you will just automatically be the new bad boy,” he says. “But did it _ever_ occur to you that there already are bad boys at this school?“

  
  


Dean scoffs. “Of course. But that was never a problem. Why should it be here?“

  
  


“Because here, you're having some _real_ competition, kiddo,” Gabriel makes known. Dean glances at him, eyes full of doubt. He was always the worst, wherever they moved, no matter the school. Honestly, why should it be  any different here? But he doesn't say anything, but rather lets Gabriel continue explaining.

  
  


“You have to know that there's some kind of _hierarchy_ at this school. We have two bad boys and they both have their own groups.“

  
  


Dean notices that Gabriel uses his hands a lot when he's explaining something, but he just listens to him.

  
  


“Alastair is the runner-up. He's a super fucking creepy guy with dead eyes, evil grin and just everything.“

  
  


Dean huffs a small laugh. “Really?“ he asks, not convinced.

  
  


“Really. Believe me, Alastair is the worst kind of person. And he only has a small group of people around him but they are dangerous. They do the usual stuff like shoving people around, insulting everyone, even the teachers, stealing things, getting into fights, drinking, doing drugs. Heavy drugs,” Gabriel points out. “But Alastair almost choke someone to death two years ago – this girl. She left the school after the, uh, _'accident'_. He also broke a lot of bones already. And he's just fucking creepy.“

  
  


Dean stares at Gabriel and by now, they are in front of the doors of the cafeteria. He stops and holds his hand out for Gabriel to stop as well. “He almost choke a girl to death and he's still here?“ he asks in disbelief. He'd never heard such a story.

  
  


“She never pressed charges and her family just moved away. I don't know, man. Everyone just knows it was Alastair, and almost no one dares to stand in his way. Like I said, he's super fucking creepy. He's a freak. You'll understand when you meet him.“ And with that, he enters the cafeteria and Dean has no other choice but to follow him.

  
  


Gabriel takes an apple, a slice of pizza and a bottle of water. But while they're waiting in line, Dean asks another question. “Why is Alastair only the runner-up, then?“ With that kind of history, the guy should be _at the top of the hierarchy_ , shouldn't he?

  
  


Chuckling, Gabriel replies with only one word Dean has no use for. “Novak.“

  
  


“Novak?“ he wonders, but Gabriel looks at him and points at the food. Dean shakes his head, he doesn't want anything. Thereat, Gabriel just shrugs and leaves the cafeteria again. Dean trudges after him, confused. He thought they'd sit down at one of the tables. “Where are we going?“ he asks, but Gabriel doesn't give him a satisfying answer.

  
  


“You have to meet someone.“

  
  


Dean ponders if _Novak_ is a name. He just asks. “This Novak guy?“

  
  


“Bingo.“ Gabriel starts eating his pizza with one hand. In the other hand he holds the apple and with his arm he presses the water bottle to his side.

  
  


Dean wrinkles his forehead. He doesn't know what to think of this Gabriel, but does he really just want to go to this guy and introduce Dean to him? After all, there has to be a reason why this Alastair is _only_ the runner-up. He wonders what's so special about this Novak that he is above a guy who almost choke a girl to death. But Dean starts to smile. He thinks that a hierarchy is actually a good thing. And he wants to be on the very top of it – looks like he's going to snatch 'the throne' away from this guy. A grin starts to spread on his face when they step outside. Finally, some good news.

  
  


Gabriel goes over to an assemblage of stone blocks that are scattered under some trees, finishing off his pizza slice. Dean follows him slowly. They are at the back of the school and he can see the forest that seems to surround the whole town, starting a fair way off behind the school grounds.

  
  


Four people are sitting on the stone blocks right now and Dean recognizes the Asian looking boy that Gabriel talked to earlier. He sits next to a girl with red hair that smoothly falls onto her shoulders, and there are two other boys. Dean looks at them and wonders if one of them is that Novak guy, or if they all just belong to him.

  
  


The girl looks up when they're halfway between the backdoor of the school and the stone blocks. A big smile appears on her face and she starts waving towards them, or more towards Gabriel. Dean frowns and glances at the boy with the hawaiian shirt. Does he actually _belong_ to Novak? Dean thought that he has more of a nerd. He shrugs. He'll know it soon.

  
  


“Gabe!” The girl laughs and jumps from the stone block she's sitting on to throw her arms around his neck. The others are smiling and looking at them. Gabriel hugs her back and Dean snorts. “Hey _Gabe_ , you didn't mention you have a girlfriend,” Dean says mockingly.

  
  


Immediately, all eyes are on him but he just stares back. Gabriel glares at him. “Charlie is not my girlfriend,” he says. “That would be _ewww_.“

  
  


The girl, Charlie, shoves him a bit but she grins at him. “You just know that you don't stand a chance.“ Facing Dean now, she adds “Hi, you must be Dean. I'm Charlie and I'm _hella_ gay.“ She holds her hand out for him to shake. Dean shakes it after a moment of hesitation, taken aback a little bit by her openly telling him, a complete stranger, her sexuality. He'd never even think about telling them, people he doesn't even know, that he's bisexual.

  
  


“If you weren't gay, I'd have a chance with you,” Gabriel points out.

  
  


“Only in your dreams,” Charlie shoots back. Gabriel rolls his eyes but then he winks at her. Dean has a look at the other guys. They're all staring at him and he wonders what Gabriel told them, _if_ he told them anything about him. But Charlie knows his name so he assumes that Gabriel _did_ tell them something about him.

  
  


“Does no one want to say hi to Dean, but Charlie?“ Gabriel asks, almost sounding like a scolding parent of a little child. Charlie goes back to sitting next to the Asian boy who holds his hand up. “Hi, I'm Kevin,” he says, smiling a bit and catching the apple Gabriel throws to him. Dean just nods.

  
  


The other two introduce themselves as Garth and Gadreel. Garth is a tall, skinny, somehow funny looking guy, but he also seems weirdly okay. Gadreel looks like he's silently judging Dean, only noticeable because of his eyebrows, but he doesn't say anything. Dean nods to them as well and looks at Gabriel who's grinning at him again.

  
  


“What?“

  
  


Gabriel looks at the others and says, as if Dean wasn't even there, “Guys, _you just met the new bad boy in town_.“

  
  


Dean is confused and more annoyed than ever. He rolls his eyes at Gabriel but Charlie, Kevin and Garth start to giggle and he can just stare at them.

  
  


“Didn't you tell him?“ Gadreel asks Gabriel, who sits down next to Garth now.

  
  


“'Course I told him but you know how kids are these days. They never listen.“ Gabriel shakes his head as if he was sorrowful about it. Charlie looks at Dean with a small smile on her lips. “I want to apologize for Gabe. He's just always like that,” she says, when she sees the look on Dean's face.

  
  


“He just said something about a hierarchy,” Dean says, without reacting to Charlie's words.

  
  


“There already are two bad boys,” Kevin points out. Dean looks at him and nods. “Yeah, Alastair and Novak.“ He puts a hand into a pocket of his jeans. It's still cold and he can't stand to look at Gabriel who isn't even wearing a jacket. But he doesn't let it show.

  
  


“Exactly,” Garth says, leaning forward a bit to look past Gabriel and at Dean. “You can only decide to what group you want to belong.“

  
  


“And y'all belong to this Novak guy?“ Dean wonders, almost snidely. They all, but Gadreel, look like they are nerds and belong to those kids who get shoved into a locker from time to time. But before anyone can answer his question, Charlie's face lights up again and she stares at something behind Dean. Everyone starts grinning, looking expectantly at him. Dean frowns.

  
  


Though, before he is able to turn around, someone behind him starts to speak. “Is that the new guy, Gabe?“

  
  


Dean swallows because the voice sends chills down his spine, but not in a bad way. He's pretty sure that he never heard a more _attractive_ voice in his whole life. It's deep and sounds hoarse, but the words come out clear and smooth.

  
  


When he does turn around, two people are walking towards them. A girl with long dark brown hair, wearing a mini-skirt over fishnet tights and a black sweatshirt that doesn't really fit the rest of her outfit. But Dean doesn't really pay her a lot of attention because the boy, who has his hand around her waist, is the most gorgeous boy Dean's ever seen.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys like it :) please continue to let me know what you think! Have a nice day <3


	3. Chapter 3

“That's the new guy? Oh my, he's sure handsome,” the girl purrs in a pleasant accent Dean doesn't recognize (since he's pretty distracted right now), when she walks past him, looking him directly in the eye while she's speaking. He hears Gabriel snort behind him. “I thought you had high standards, Meg.“

 

Dean knows it is an insult towards him. He probably should at least feel kind of offended and show them that they can't talk like that about him. But he can't find it in him to care right now, and he doesn't even hear the girl's answer to Gabriel's comment.

 

He's totally _lost_. He knows at 100% he's never felt like this. He's never seen a person and could just stare at them, because that only happens in sappy movies and books, and _not_ in real life. In real life, people aren't struck by lightning when they see _the_ person. But here he is, so far gone that he's not sure if he will be able to find the way back to reality. Because this can't be real, this can't be happening. Still, he just froze in place and he looks at this boy, as if there were no other people around them, as if the others didn't matter anymore, as if they didn't _exist_ anymore. Because only this boy exists right now. And it is so utterly strange and _wrong_ , but Dean can't do anything about it.

 

The boy had let go of the girl's waist – Meg – and stands in front of Dean now, looking at him with a glimpse of curiosity in his eyes.

 

And that's the first thing Dean notices. The boy's eyes. Blue. Fucking _blue_. He's never seen such a blue before, especially not in the eyes of someone. Because this kind of blue doesn't exist – or so he thought. They're even deeper than the guy's voice, almost endless, and as clear as crystal. They remind him of the ocean, of cold fresh air in the morning, and of the wonder when you're standing under a waterfall. They look like they belong in a fucking _poem_. What the _hell_ is wrong with him?

 

The second thing he notices are the boy's fingernails and his brow furrows in confusion. He stares at them in disbelief, noticing how his mind slowly starts to come back to reality. But it's like waking up from a deep sleep, and he still can just look at the boy in front of him.

 

His fingernails are red. The boy has _painted_ them.

 

Dean can't do anything else, so his mind just takes everything in. The clothes the boy is wearing. Black boots, neatly corded up and just a bit muddy. Dark jeans that are purposely ripped at the knees and fit tightly around his muscular legs. The army pullover that's not as closely to his torso as it could be, but it's still tight and it looks _good_. And just everything else. The very messy dark hair, something black on the neck of this boy that probably belongs to a fucking tattoo, but Dean can't see it properly, and the little silver nose stud.

 

 _That's it_. He's at least halfway back to reality. And Dean can't help it. He scoffs. This boy looks so surreal and so gorgeous at the same time, and it confuses him. The nail polish and the nose stud in combination with the outfit and just what he _looks like_ come across so wrong and right at the same time. Maybe _wrong_ because Dean is seeing him for the first time, and maybe _right_ because it all just appears like it fucking belongs exactly the way it is.

 

He doesn't know how much time actually passes and he doesn't even know that he's basically gawking at this guy until he hears a low chuckle. He stares at the boy's face, who licks his lips and stares back at Dean, locking eyes with him. “You're having a problem?“

 

“What?“ Dean asks, again totally off guard, because this _fucking_ voice sends goosebumps all over his body and raises his hackles. _What the fuck?_

 

He hears the others snickering and turns half around, just by instinct, blinking at them. Gabriel is biting is lip, but he looks at Dean and says, “Like I said, you brighten up my Monday, Dean.“

 

Grinning at the boy, he adds, “I just _love_ the different effects you have on people, Castiel.“

 

_Castiel?_

 

_Castiel Novak?_

 

It just puts itself together in his head, he doesn't even have to think about it. Castiel Novak. And holy fuck, does it match. Dean never thought that he'd be so pleased with how a name sounds. Castiel Novak. He repeats it in his head. It sounds good. It sounds right. It fits. It's smooth and elegant and without a doubt, it belongs to this guy in front of him.

 

“Dean, you should close your mouth, before you start drooling“ Meg tells him with her smoky voice and raises an eyebrow at him. He finally gets dragged completely back to reality, where he's standing on the school ground with all these other people. How long is he already standing here like this, like a _fucking idiot_ , thinking about this boy, about Castiel?

 

Fortunately, he regains his composure quickly and he doesn't even blush. He glares at her disparagingly. “Funny.“ He grits his teeth, but he can't think of anything else to say. Suddenly, he remembers what he wants. He wants to have his usual reputation. And he isn't really playing a part in contributing to that at the moment.

 

Meg laughs and it's really not an unpleasant sound, it's powerful and strong. But he still doesn't like it, because she's laughing at _him_. Normally, no one dares to laugh at him. But nothing here seems to be like it is normally. And that is getting on his nerves and it's making him angry. This isn't how he imagined his first day at the new school to go. He thought it would be easy to gain a reputation as bad boy again, because it was always easy. Why not here? Why is here this guy, Castiel, and ruins everything? Dean isn't actually angry yet, he's more upset, and that upsets him even more, and _that_ is starting to make him angry. He doesn't understand what is happening. Does it make any sense?

 

Castiel has walked around him and sits down next to Charlie, never stopping to look at Dean, what doesn't escape Dean's notice. But he doesn't feel uncomfortable, although the look he gets seems to pierce right through him. He licks his lips, trying to stay in the present and not letting his mind run of the track again. He needs to focus on getting the reputation he wants.

 

Gabriel gets up and goes over to Castiel, whispering something into his ear and a smile slowly appears on his face. Dean frowns at the sight, but mostly because he can't cannot notice how _endearing_ Castiel's smile looks like, and it annoys him. Again, it's his eyes – that's where most of the smile takes place. They're shining and it's like the sun dove into the ocean.

 

“Hey, no secrets,” Meg pouts.

 

“As if you don't have any secrets,” Kevin says, before Gabriel or Castiel can react.

 

“You're just too smart, Kev.“ Meg ruffles his hair. He huffs a laugh and runs his own fingers through his hair, smoothing it down again.

 

“Fine, no secrets.“ Gabriel holds up his hands. “I just told Castiel about Dean-o's 'plan'.“ He puts the last word in quotation marks, but in an exaggerated way.

 

Dean rolls his eyes and leans with his butt against one of the stone blocks, next to Garth. He can feel the cold as fuck stone through his jeans, but he doesn't want to stand awkwardly in front of the stones any longer. He's still an outsider, though. He scratches his chin, looking at them and waiting. He doesn't even want to belong to them. And he sure as hell doesn't want to accept a subordinate role to _Castiel_ _Novak_. Why the fuck is this guy _at the top_ of the hierarchy?

 

“Dean-o's plan?“ Meg asks now and wrinkles her forehead in confusion. This time, Charlie is the one to roll her eyes, but it's Gadreel who answers Meg's question. “He wants to challenge Castiel for _the throne of the bad boys_ ,” he says, voice oozing with contemptuousness. Apparently, he has a low opinion of Dean – as if he cared about something like that. He only wishes they would stop calling him _Dean-o_ , but he won't say anything about that, because he'd only fall on deaf ears anyway.

 

Everyone laughs a bit at Gadreel's words, even Castiel. Dean ignores the warmth that starts to bloom in his chest when he hears Castiel's gravelly laugh, but then the blue-eyed boy locks eyes with him once more. Dean only hears Meg's next words distantly. “He does look like a bad boy, though.“

 

Dean's eyes flicker briefly over to her, but Garth is faster than him and just says, “Looks aren't everything.“

 

And it's the first time he agrees with something one of them says. He stares at Garth for a moment and so does everyone else. Kevin and Charlie nod in agreement and Castiel's lips graces a barely noticeable smile. But Dean can't help it, he has to comment it, even though he agrees with it. It's just that he doesn't want to agree with something one of them said. Or that he doesn't want to _admit_ that.

 

“At least, I look somewhat like a bad boy,” he sneers. There is a moment of silence and everyone but Castiel is staring at him, trying to tell him something with their eyes. But Dean feels his anger rushing through his veins once again, and he doesn't even want to know if they're trying to warn him, or what they're trying to tell him. Today really isn't going like he thought it would go. He had to listen to all their comments about him and they laughed at him. He knows that it's not good enough to start an actual fight, although he started fights for less already. But hell, he doesn't even want to start an actual fight. He just has to get something off his chest, he just have to vent his spleen, at least a little bit. So he says the first thing that comes to his mind.

 

“I thought only _girls_ painted their fingernails.“

 

Gabriel doesn't even try to hide how he facepalms. Gadreel, Charlie and Kevin close their eyes at Dean's reckless stupidity. Garth screws up his nose and Meg smirks at him. Though, they all have different reactions, they still manage to put on the same knowingly expression. As if they already knew what consequences this simple sentence will have. Dean shifts his weight from one foot to the other, chewing on the inside of his cheek. Maybe it wasn't just a simple sentence, not to them. _Not to Castiel._ But then he wonders why the hell he should care about that. Why the hell should he care if he said the wrong thing? He _wanted_ to say the wrong thing. He _doesn't_ want them to like him. He isn't here to make any friends. He's here to get his reputation. And there's only one way to get it.

 

The smile completely disappears from Castiel's face as he stands. He eyes Dean, frowning just slightly, but his eyes are colder than ice suddenly and would probably put the Arctic to shame.

 

“And?“ he asks Dean in a low voice, making his already rough voice even more husky. For the first time, Dean notices a hazardous glint in those blue eyes, and he thinks he's beginning to understand _why_ Castiel is called a bad boy. But now it's too late. And isn't he a bad boy as well? There is nothing Dean has to be afraid of, and he especially doesn't have to be afraid of this guy. Dean can be dangerous as well, if he wants to. He lost count with how many faces his fists connected, how many times he shoved people to the ground, how many times he insulted other people. Dean Winchester is a bad boy, _a bad person_ , and no one knows that better than he does. He'd show them _how bad_ he really is, and then no one will ever dare again to make fun of him, or to laugh at him.

 

When Dean doesn't answer, Castiel does. “You say that like it's a bad thing. Like it's a bad thing to be a girl. To be feminine. You say that like being a girl is a synonym for being weak.“ He turns around, looking at Charlie and Meg and grinning at them. “That's bullshit. Girls are _badass_.“ He turns back to Dean, facing him fully again. He has his arms crossed over his chest, chin sticking out, glaring at Dean, and it seems as if he's thinking about his next words for a moment. Dean still doesn't say anything. He just glares back.

 

“Did I make a comment about your almost painfully ugly band t-shirt, Dean?“ Castiel asks now, tilting his head to the side and stepping closer to him. He is smaller than Dean, just a little bit, but he is still not looking up at him. _He is looking down at him._ Surprised, Dean raises his eyebrows, not knowing how Castiel does this. But he just stares back into those blue eyes, because he doesn't know _what to say_. He's stunned. He didn't expect such a reaction from Castiel.

 

“Everyone is expressing their personality differently and you shouldn't make fun of how other people do it“ Castiel says quietly and dangerously, stepping into Dean's personal space. Dean doesn't step back, after all he is _Dean Winchester_ and Dean Winchester always tries not to show any weakness in front of other people. He just looks at Castiel, who stares back at him, jaw clenched and eyes still like ice. Dean doesn't know if he's going to start a fight, but if he's going to, he's in. Screw his _no-fights-on-the-first-day-policy_. Actually, when Dean wins, the others will finally understand that there is a new bad boy at this school, and that the others are nobodies now. And he's going to win. He won't lose to this guy. He has _never_ lost a fight before.

 

“You doesn't like it? Fine. But keep your opinion to yourself.“ With that, Castiel jerks his head briefly and Meg jumps up from her place next to Kevin, just as the bell rings.

 

Dean doesn't even understand that the conversation, the moment, is over and that there's not going to be a fight until Castiel slings his arm around Meg's waist again. They walk past him, back towards the school building. He is so smitten with surprise, he barely notices how his and Castiel's shoulder brush. What the hell did just happen? Why did Castiel end it like this, without a fight? Why did he just walk away?

 

The others are collecting their things and throwing away their trash now. Gabriel steps closer to Dean, still smiling, and he shakes his head. “When six people are trying to tell you something with their eyes, are shaking their heads, _showing_ you to stop talking, why don't you get it?“

 

Dean swallows and glares at him. “What? I _wanted_ to say it.“

 

“You don't seem to understand,” Kevin says, shouldering his backpack. Charlie pats Dean on the shoulder, looking softly at him. “That was a close shave,” she chuckles and Dean's forehead creases at her words. “Means?”

 

Gadreel walks past them, glaring at Dean and shaking his head. “Castiel broke noses for far less. I don't get why he didn't start a fight.“

 

Dean scoffs and looks to the side, but Gabriel glances at him with a serious face. “Gadreel is right. You were lucky. We'll see what happens the next time.“

 

“The next time?“ Charlie wonders and they start walking towards the backdoor of the school, and Dean just follows them. She looks at Gabriel and Dean questioningly.

 

Gabriel stares back at her and then also at Dean. “With that temper?“ He smirks at Dean. “There will be a next time. And I'm pretty sure that there's going to be a fight. We should bet on who's going to win and who's going to lose.“

  
Dean doesn't say something, but he thinks about Gabriel's words. _Next time_. Yeah, there's going to be a next time and when there's actually going to be a fight, he'll shove Castiel's face into a locker. It can't be that a guy _with painted fingernails_ has a better reputation as bad boy than _him_. And it doesn't matter how gorgeous he may look. _Fuck him_. Dean's going to get his reputation as always, no matter how long it will take, how long Castiel and the others need to finally get it into their heads. _There is no one worse than him._ And Castiel Novak is dead certain not worse than him.

 

They enter the school and their ways part. Charlie goes with Gadreel to their next class and Kevin also disappears around the corner. Garth goes with Gabriel and Dean, because apparently Dean and Garth have their last class together. He wonders why Gabriel even bothers to go with them, when he could also just follow Garth.

 

When they're in front of the classroom, Garth gives Gabriel a brief hug, nods to Dean and enters the room, but Gabriel holds Dean back. He is grinning once again. Dean clenches his jaw.

 

“Dean-o, you honestly made my day. You amuse me.“

 

Dean huffs a small breath and shakes his head. He just leaves Gabriel standing there, not awarding him with an answer. He enters the classroom, flopping down on a chair, glaring at everything and everyone. He balls his hands into fists and unclenches them again a few times to control his anger. He tries to ignore the need to punch something.

 

In his last class, he takes a couple of notes and tries to listen to the teacher, focusing on the messy handwriting on the blackboard. He pretends there is nothing blue in the room, because he definitely doesn't want to think about _blue_. And he especially doesn't want to think how fucking fast the bluest ocean is able to freeze, how fucking fast the sun disappeared from it.

 

He fucking _hates_ blue.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Castiel meets Gadreel, Charlie and Meg at the stone blocks after school. It's only January, the second week after the Christmas break, and it's fucking cold. But the sun peeks through the clouds every now and then, even though the rays aren't warm. He prefers this weather anyway. Cold. Sharp. Snowy. Rainy. He likes it this way.

 

He fishes for the cigarettes in the pocket of his coat that Meg is currently wearing. She takes the pack out of his hand and gets two cigarettes out of it, one for Gadreel and one for herself. She throws it into the air and Castiel snorts, catching it mid-air and taking a cigarette out for himself.

 

Charlie glares at them disapprovingly, pouting slightly when she locks eyes with him. Castiel winks at her and holds his lighter to the tip of the cigarette. Meg sneaks it from him, lighting her own cigarette and also Gadreel's. “Do you have got anything yourself?“ he asks, pointing at the cigarette from _his_ pack, _his_ lighter in her hands and _his_ coat over her shoulders. Gadreel chuckles, but Meg just shrugs.

 

“I don't have to, as long as I have you, Clarence,” she jokes. “But I'm afraid I won't have you any longer.“ She takes a pull on her cigarette, her lips stretching to a smirk around it. Castiel stares at her, blowing smoke rings into the cold winter air. Her eyes are twinkling mischievously.

 

“Wow. Really?“ Gadreel grumbles around his cigarette, looking at him and furrowing his brow.

 

“What?“ Castiel asks sharply. Charlie giggles, tugging a red strand of her hair behind her ear. “Dean Winchester, huh?“ she asks, wiggling her eyebrows. Castiel huffs a small laugh, taking a long pull from his cigarette and enjoying the feeling of the smoke going down his throat.

 

Gadreel locks eyes with him, jaw clenched. A frown embellishes the features of his face, and Castiel already knows what he's going to say, but he lets him say it out loud anyway. “I don't like him.“

 

“I do,” Charlie says with a smile. Everyone looks at her. “What? He seems sweet – somehow. The way he looked at Cas...“ She shrugs. Meg turns to Castiel, the cigarette dangling from her red lips. “He _is_ handsome.“

 

“Not interested,” Castiel mutters, tapping his cigarette at the edge of the stone block and watching the ash fall to the ground. He creases his forehead slightly. When he looks up again, three pairs of eyes are on him, staring at him in disbelief.

 

“Clarence, we aren't _blind_. We have noticed how _you_ stared at him.“ He glares at Meg, gritting his teeth but he doesn't say something. He just finishes off his cigarette, lighting the next one up with skilled hands immediately. Charlie shakes her head and sighs; she wants him to stop. She wants all of them to stop smoking, but to no avail. She grabs her backpack and slings it over one shoulder.

 

“Peace out, bitches,” she says and gets up. “This bitch,” she points at herself and grins, “got a date.“

 

“Have fun,” Castiel comments, holding his fist out. Charlie bumps her fist against his and then fist bumps Meg and high fives Gadreel. Still grinning, she disappears around the corner of the building.

 

“I have to go as well,” Gadreel tells them a few minutes later, straightening his jacket and stomping out his cigarette with his shoe. Castiel waves at him briefly before lighting up another cigarette. Meg glances at him and he smiles, blowing a smoke ring to her face. She huffs a laugh, taking also another cigarette when he offers it. They smoke in silence until Castiel lights up his sixth cigarette and Meg takes it away from him.

 

“ _Hey_ ,” he complains, but Meg just closes her lips around the cigarette, taking a long pull and raises one eyebrow at him.

 

“You only chain-smoke like this, when something's bothering you. What is it?“ she asks with a sly smile, as if she already knew the answer to her question.

 

“Nothing.“

 

“Come on, Clarence. I know you.“

 

“Nothing is bothering me.“ Castiel gets up and runs his fingers through his hair, messing it up even more. Meg looks at him, holding the cigarette between two fingers, and a smile is tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Dean Winchester,” she says, licking her lips, but it's not a question. It's the _answer_ to her question.

 

But Castiel just scoffs and gives her a smile, while he starts to walk away. “Have a nice day!” he says over his shoulder.

 

“Wait, what about your coat?“ she calls after him. He slows his pace, turning around and making a few steps backwards. “You can keep it for today. But don't dirty it.“

 

“But you know that I like it _dirty_.“

 

Castiel grins and looks at the sky and the grey clouds above them, when little snowflakes are starting to fall down. “How would I?“ he shouts.

 

“We have to change that some day.“

 

He laughs and waves at her before he takes the path around the school building and leaves the school ground. On his way to Missouri, there is the occasional snowflake landing on the pavement, but it doesn't really start to snow – yet. The clouds are heavy and hang low in the sky. Castiel hopes it's going to snow a lot and also very soon.

 

It only takes him fifteen minutes to arrive at Missouri's little shop. The golden letters on the display window still make him chuckle. **Missouri's Realm – Need Anything? You'll find it here and probably also something you didn't know you need**

 

The little bell on the door jingles when Castiel pushes it open. He makes his way along the shelves to the back of the shop, where the counter with the register is. The shelves are full with _everything_. Missouri sells decoration, dishes, bedding, make-up, books, pens and pencils, notebooks, candles, tools, tea, stuff to do arts and crafts, bread, scarfs, toys... just everything. He knows that she bakes the bread herself, she makes all kinds of tea herself and she also knits the scarfs that are neatly stacked on top of each other. He chuckles, loving the atmosphere here. It's just Missouri, because the shop is not very big and it all looks kinda crammed and it's _almost_ too much, but somehow it's perfect. Castiel knows his way around, even though he hasn't been here for a while. Taking in the scent of dust, Missouri's perfume and the hardwood, regret makes him furrow his brow.

 

When he stands in front of the counter, he finds that Missouri isn't sitting there. But she hardly is. She always rummages around, cleaning shelves and rearranging all the items. Castiel doesn't understand how she's able to stay on top of things, she just sells so many stuff. It's January and he has a look at the decoration – a few weeks ago, Christmas decoration adorned the shelves and the shop window. Now, there are still some stars and strings of lights, but also some snowflakes and stuff you could have in a room all year long.

 

He inspects three little Buddha figures on the nearest shelf that he hasn't seen before. All three sit cross-legged and one is covering its ears, one is covering its mouth and one is covering its eyes. He huffs a small laugh, when suddenly someone smacks his head. He yelps surprised and turns around. Missouri is standing in front of him, arms akimbo, holding a feather duster in one hand.

 

“Where's your coat, young man? Do you want to get sick?“ she greets him and pulls him into a hug. He chuckles. She's always so overly motherly.

 

“I gave Meg my coat,” Cas explains and Missouri rolls her eyes. “If that girl didn't wear mini-skirts in the middle of winter, she wouldn't need your coat.“

 

Castiel shrugs. It's not his job to tell Meg how to dress and neither is it Missouri's, although she tries it every time Meg accompanies him in the winter months, when it's freezing outside.

 

Missouri sits down on one of the chairs behind the counter and points silently at the other one. Cas sits down next to her, returning her sharp look. “It's nice that you found your way back to me again at last,” she tells him.

 

He grits his teeth and looks down guiltily. He fiddles with a stack of notepads that's laying on the counter. He knows that he hasn't been here for a while. He doesn't even know why he didn't visit Missouri in the last weeks, he just didn't. There wasn't even a lot that was going on, just the usual amount of homework and the other things he always does. But somehow, he didn't find the time to visit Missouri. Of all things, it had been Christmas and New Year's Eve, and he didn't visit her.

 

_Or maybe, he doesn't want to admit to himself why he hasn't been here lately. After all, he knows what time of the year it has been for him._ But he pushes this thought to the back of his mind.

 

“I'm sorry,” he mutters, but she holds up her hands and looks at him with much more warmer eyes now, shaking her head slightly.

 

“Don't apologize, Castiel. I'm just glad that you're here again. I missed you.“

 

Castiel smiles at her. He missed her, too. He missed her warmth, her concern, her friendly smile, and the comforting atmosphere that always surrounds her, wherever she goes. He already feels his mind calming down.

 

“And your help,” she adds, gesturing at the many shelves. He bites his lip, looking around, but he can't help to smile at her again. He gets up immediately, taking the feather duster that Missouri put on the counter and winks at her before disappearing behind a shelf.

 

The next two hours, he gives the floor a sweep with Missouri's old broom, he dusts off a few shelves and rearranges the pillows on one of the upper shelves. He's still standing on the ladder, when Missouri lets him know that she wants to close the shop in a few minutes. He nods to her and she looks at his work with a satisfied expression in her eyes. He sorted the pillows by color. By now, his mind is completely calm and there are no racing thoughts inside of his head anymore. He even isn't craving a cigarette anymore, since he doesn't need it at the moment. He just needed Missouri and helping her around in her shop, like he always does every now and then. That's the reason why his feet brought him here today. He takes a deep breath and takes a last look at the sorted pillows, smiling to himself.

 

After he stored the ladder away in a corner, he goes up to the counter again. “Take your pick,” Missouri commands, pointing at the shelves. Her tone of voice is already telling him that she won't take no as an answer, but he still tries. “No, it's okay. I like to help you,” he insists, but she glares at him and points at the shelves once more. “Take your pick, boy. But hurry up. I want to call it a day.“

 

Castiel chuckles and then sighs, but he starts wandering through the aisles again, knowing that he can't win an argument with this woman. He looks at all the different things on the shelves. He doesn't really need something, nor does he want something, but maybe he just finds something nice. Everyone always finds something in Missouri's little shop.

 

In the middle of an aisle near the door, he stops, hand still resting on a shelf where he let his fingers dance over the wood. He bites his lip. Without thinking, he takes the item that caught his eye from the shelf and stares at it in his hand. He gulps, trying to understand the sudden rush of warmth in his chest and why his thoughts start to bounce around in his skull again.

 

“Did you find something?“ Missouri appears next to him and he jumps a bit. He didn't hear her. He didn't even realize how lost in thought he was.

 

“Oh, that's a lovely color,” she comments, eyeing the nail polish that's still in his hand. “I like green.“

 

“Me too,” he mumbles, wrinkling his forehead. Does he? He has never thought about it. He sees green every day, with having a forest surrounding the town. He's just used to this color, to the different shades of green in the trees and the bushes. But suddenly, he _notices_ green. He _sees_ it. He doesn't understand it, it's just a simple color. It's nothing special, right?

 

“Honey?“ Missouri asks, staring at his face and trying to read what's happening in his mind. “What's wrong?“

 

He chews on the inside of his cheek. He knows he can always talk to Missouri, about everything and anything. She'll never judge him, she'll always listen and try to help as best she can. But he has no words for what's happening inside of him right now. It's strange. He can't explain it, because it's just a feeling, deep down in the pit of his stomach, caused by... _green_. By candy apple green. By the green of an ever growing forest that the sun's light is shining through. By the green of the eyes of...

 

Castiel shakes his head, a small smile touching the corners of his mouth. He fiddles with the nail polish a bit, swiveling it in his hand. “This just reminded me of something.“

 

Missouri looks into his eyes for a long moment, but eventually she nods, saying he can keep it if he wants to. He tries not to think about it and just tucks it into the back pocket of his jeans, flashing her a relieved smile. She understands that he can't talk right now. But he can see that she knows something's off. He just doesn't understand it, not even knowing for sure what it is. That's why he can't talk about it. He couldn't explain it anyway, even though he's sure that somehow Missouri would still know what he means. But the thing is, _he_ wouldn't understand what he means.

 

They leave the shop, Missouri turns the sign on the door from **open** to **close** before she closes and locks it. Then she pulls him in for another hug. It's a silent way of saying _I'm here for you_ and he just smiles at her thankfully.

 

On the whole way home, he can't stop thinking. But there are no coherent thoughts in his head, nothing really makes any sense. He just thinks about the nail polish, about _green_ , and soft breezes over meadows. He thinks about laying down on the grass on a sunny afternoon, the smell of it wavering under his nose, wind tugging at his hair like gentle fingers, and this comforting feeling like everything's going to be fine.

 

He hasn't had such thoughts for a very, _very_ long time.

 

Castiel doesn't want to think about it and as soon as the thought comes up that the _new boy's eyes_ are making him feel and think like that, he takes it and throws it away, somewhere in the back of his mind. He has to tuck it away, hide it under layers and layers of other things, _heavy things_ he also doesn't want to think about. He has to put this thought somewhere he can't reach anymore, so that he'll forget about it. He can't think of it anymore. He just can't. He can't allow himself to think like that. He already feels the panic... the fear... the darkness... that try to get hold of his mind, his thoughts... his _heart_.

 

He feels goosebumps covering his arms and legs, and he knows they have nothing to do with the cold. He closes his eyes for a second and then, he's already in his street. He swallows. _Fucking_ _green_. He sees his brother's car in their driveway and knows that he's home, but he still hopes he can sneak some beers and maybe the whiskey bottle from the fridge in his room. Fortunately, he still has a lot of cigarettes. Anything that will keep his mind from thinking is good right now.

 

Because one thing is for sure. He'd rather drown in whiskey than _Dean_ _Winchester's_ _eyes_.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey :) I'm so sorry that it took me so long to write a new chapter.
> 
> Hope you'll like it. The next chapter will come soon (hopefully).
> 
> Have a great weekend!! And please let me know what you think :D
> 
> ~ KC

Dean can't believe he forgot his cigarettes. He _never_ forgets his cigarettes. But it's the third time he's sifting through his backpack today, and they aren't there. He already noticed that they aren't there in the first break, but he was too busy dealing with this Gabriel guy and then the thing with Novak happened... And now he really wants a _fucking_ cigarette, but he can't find his pack.

 

“Fuck,” he mutters and drops his backpack to the ground. He really _needs_ a cigarette. _As if he hasn't put them in his bag, he always does..._ “Dammit, Sammy”, he says out loud.

 

Dean runs his fingers through his hair. Sam has packed his backpack for school. He sighs. His little brother probably took the cigarettes and just threw them away. He knows that Sam wants him to stop smoking, but he doesn't want to stop. Besides, he needs it now. He had a terrible day. He never thought that the first day at the new school would be like _this_. And now he doesn't even have a cigarette!

 

He kind of wants to be upset about it and to tell Sam not to touch his stuff ever again – although he never vents his frustration on Sammy –, but the second he sees his little brother, he forgets about the cigarettes. Sam looks like he did yesterday evening – sad and tired. But it's even worse today. Apparently, his first day at the new school didn't go well, too.

 

Dean frowns and grabs his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder. “Hey,” he says to Sam with a small smile, wanting to ask him what happened, but Sam just walks past him. Confused and surprised, he follows him. Sam walks faster than usual and he doesn't look back. He doesn't check if Dean is there. His eyes are stubbornly bound forward.

 

They don't talk during the entire walk home, because apparently Sam doesn't _want_ to talk to Dean and Dean doesn't want to do this _publicly_. He wants to talk to Sam when they're alone. And as soon as they've arrived at home and Dean closed the front door behind him, he grabs Sam by his shoulders and turns him around. It didn't escape his notice that Sam has wanted to go upstairs _without_ talking to him.

 

“What's wrong?“ Dean asks right away. There's no need to beat around the bush. It's more than obvious that something's wrong. He needs to know _what_. He needs to know _whose fucking lungs he has to rip out_.

 

“What's wrong?“ Sam asks back, staring at him in disbelief. His eyes are practically screaming with exhaustion. “How about _everything_?“

 

“Sammy...,” Dean starts, thinking he knows already what's wrong (at least partly), but Sam shakes his head.

 

“I don't want to be here. I want to go back to Bobby. I wanted to stay there. And I said it countless times. _But no one cares_!“

 

“Sam, that's not true.“ Dean suddenly realizes how tired he is himself. He runs his fingers through his hair again. “I wanted to stay there as well. Bobby wanted us to stay. But dad...“ He bites his lip, trying to think of a way to word it.

 

“Dad ruined everything”, Sam says quietly, fists clenched. “Why is he like that?“

 

Dean sighs. God, he hates this day so fucking much. He stares at the ceiling for a moment and then back at his little brother. “You know the reason why.“

 

“Yeah, the accident”, Sam says and scoffs. Dean frowns. They've only talked about it once before, and he _really_ doesn't want to talk about it right now. He wants a cigarette. But Sam doesn't seem as if he wanted to talk about it either. He looks at Dean for a few more seconds, then he just turns around and goes upstairs. Dean doesn't move, he doesn't stop Sam this time. He hears him slamming the door to his room shut. He closes his eyes.

 

Fuck.

 

Slowly, Dean goes into his own room, closing the door quietly, letting his backpack drop on the floor. Do they have homework? He doesn't know. He doesn't _care_. He didn't listen. The only really important thing is Sammy, is his little brother. And right now he is a _lousy_ big brother.

 

He can feel his anger flaring up again, somewhere behind his eyes. Never is something like it's supposed to be. They aren't the family they were supposed to be. Dean was supposed to be a _good_ person. A boy who doesn't start to smoke at the age of 13. A boy who doesn't know how it feels when bones break under his hands. A boy who isn't so fucking  angry _all the time_.

 

And Sam – Sammy was supposed to be a normal little kid. A kid with a stable home. A kid with a stable father. Neither of them were supposed to know how it is when their drunk dad comes back home late at night, too drunk to recognize them, and starts to swing at them, just because he can. Sammy was supposed to be a kid that has a mother...

 

Dean swallows. He needs a fucking cigarette immediately.

 

After a few minutes of searching for his cigarette pack, he sees them laying in the bin. Sam actually threw them away. Dean feels bad, but he ignores the feeling and just grabs the pack nevertheless. He leaves his room and the house again, this time through the back door.

 

The forest, that surrounds this whole goddamn town, starts almost right behind their house. He just has to take a couple of steps, and then he'd stand among the bare trees. It's still fucking cold and he hastily lights up a cigarette. He takes a long pull on it, satisfied with the feeling of the smoke finally going down his throat. But his anger doesn't disappear.

 

The only good thing right now is that there is nothing _blue_ in front of him. All he sees are the trees and their backyard that's nothing more than a patch of brown grass and a few old boxes, stacked by the exterior wall of the house, and an old tire. The sky is covered with gray clouds; a few snowflakes already escaped them. Dean wonders when it's going to start to snow for real. He screws up his nose. He doesn't like snow, or the cold. He _hates_ winter. He hates it so fucking much.

 

Dean smokes two more cigarettes before he goes back into the house. His fingers are numb when he takes off his jacket. The cigarette pack is in his jacket pocket now to prevent Sam from throwing it away again. He doesn't feel like going back to his room and sulking there. He knows that he has to unpack all the boxes in his room. He doesn't have a lot of stuff, but still, it will take some time. There are also still some more boxes in the living room. And if he had to guess, he'd say Sam probably won't continue to unpack today either.

 

He looks around, a scowl appears on his face slowly. Dean clenches his fists. He can't stay here. The house just worsens his bad mood. The old furniture and the feeling of _not being home_ make his head starting to spin. He needs to get out of here.

 

He wants to turn around when his eyes land on the cupboards in the kitchen, and he hits on an idea.

 

Taking two steps at once, he goes back upstairs and knocks on Sam's door. He doesn't wait for an answer though, and just opens it. Sam is sitting at his desk, with his back to him, writing something down in a notebook. “Homework?“ Dean asks, voice calm and friendly. He points at the notebook and the textbook on the desk. Sam just nods, without looking up.

 

Dean knows why Sam is like this right now, but he also wonders if something happened at school that was the last straw. He also isn't sure if Sam is angry at _him_ or if he's just angry at _everything_. In any case, Dean couldn't blame him. But maybe he is able to make him feel a little bit better, at least. _Hopefully._

 

“Hey, I, uh, have to do something, but I'll be back soon, okay?“ he asks innocently.

 

“Okay,” Sam mutters, shrugging. Dean ignores the nagging feeling in his stomach. Normally, Sam would have asked where he's going, but now he doesn't seem to care. _This will pass_ , he tells himself.

 

“Okay,” he says and smiles, but Sam still isn't looking at him. He bites his lip but decides against saying something. It would be no use anyway. So he just leaves Sam's room, grabs his jacket downstairs and checks if he has his wallet and keys. When he steps outside, it's early afternoon. Their father won't be back before 10 pm, but he still doesn't want to leave Sammy alone for too long. But maybe it's also good, when he gives Sam some alone time.

 

Dean sighs ill tempered, and starts walking to the main street.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The open window is making it easy for the cold to get into his room. Castiel is shivering slightly but he doesn't mind. He _likes_ it. He likes the cold. He enjoys it.

 

He's sitting on his bed, chain-smoking again. His pack is almost empty; he lost count how many cigarettes he has smoked since he came home. All he knows is that all the smoke escaped through the open window, that a few empty beer bottles are laying on the floor and that it got dark outside as well as in his room. He didn't bother to turn on the light. The whiskey bottle in his hand is still a little more than half-full, though. He takes another swig, grimacing. He doesn't like whiskey that much.

 

But the beers, the cigarettes and the whiskey have the desired effect – _clouding his mind_. Exactly what he wanted. An idly grin spreads on his lips, while his eyes focus on a small hole in his blanket.

 

A knock on his door makes him raise his eyes from his blanket eventually. “Come in,” he says, not bothering to hide the whiskey bottle or the cigarettes, and the door opens. His brother leans against the door frame, glancing from the open window to the beer bottles on the floor to the full ashtray on the bed to the bottle in Castiel's hand, and then to Castiel's face. He raises his eyebrows. “Tough day?“ he asks.

 

Castiel scowls at him. “Shut up, Lucifer,” he mumbles, raising the bottle to his lips again. His voice is croaky, probably due to the alcohol and all the cigarettes, but he doesn't care. Why should he care?

 

Lucifer scoffs, rolling his eyes at him. He enters Castiel's room, turning the light on and stepping in front of his bed, without asking of course. Castiel squints at the sudden brightness. His brother takes the whiskey bottle from his hands and Castiel only protests slightly. “Hey,” he groans, blinking at his big brother. His eyes only become accustomed to the brightness slowly after sitting in the dark for hours.

 

“I think you've had enough,” Lucifer says, and there's no judgment in his voice. He just says it matter-of-factly. “And dinner is ready, so move your ass downstairs.“ He leaves the room, leaving the door open. Cas contemplates just staying here on his bed or at least just getting up to close the door, because he isn't even hungry. But after a few moments, he gets up and goes downstairs. For now, he ignores the mess in his room.

 

Cas isn't really drunk, he just feels a little dizzy. He finds Lucifer in the living room, sitting on the couch and putting some casserole on two plates. “Wow, you actually got up. I would have brought you something, if you hadn't come.“

 

Castiel just shrugs and slumps down next to his brother. The TV is on and he watches how Hermione Granger punches Draco Malfoy in the face. He frowns, tilting his head and taking the plate Lucifer hands to him. “We only watched the first movie yesterday. Shouldn't we watch _Chamber of Secrets_ today?“ he asks. Now, Lucifer shrugs his shoulders and starts to eat.

 

“I watched it earlier, when I came home.“

 

“Without me?“ Cas asks, taking the fork into his hand.

 

“You drank the whiskey without me. The whiskey that _I_ bought.“ Lucifer points with his own fork into Castiel's direction, squinting at him. Castiel bites his lip and then he grins.

 

“Good point. How was work?“ he changes the topic, not wanting his brother to ask _why_ he took the whiskey bottle.

 

“Boring,” Lucifer answers, darting a glance at him. He looks like he wants to ask what happened, but he doesn't. Castiel wonders when he's going to ask. He doesn't know what he's going to answer then – what he should answer. He doesn't even know himself what happened.

 

So after that, they eat and watch the movie in silence. Castiel helps Lucifer clean the dishes, ignoring the stares he still gets from him. He hopes he can just go back to his room. Maybe he'll make it without Lucifer starting to ask questions. But he isn't so lucky. As soon as he put the last plate into the cupboard, his brother starts to talk.

 

“What happened?“

 

Castiel looks at him and then at the door. He sighs. “Nothing.“

 

“Yeah, _sure_. How about you tell me the truth?“

 

He takes a deep breath and stares at his feet. “It's nothing, really.“

 

“You wanna try that again? Because you're not really convincing, you know?“ Lucifer says.

 

Castiel scoffs. “It's nothing, it's... _stupid_ ,” he mutters.

 

“So, something _did_ happen?“

 

Castiel wrinkles his forehead, leaning against the kitchen counter. “Nothing really happened. It's just... there's a new boy at the school.“ The words only come out of his mouth at a slow pace. Again, he has the feeling that he doesn't even know himself what's wrong. He doesn't understand it. He doesn't know what it means. So, _how_ is he supposed to explain it to someone else? His head starts to ache.

 

“And?“ Lucifer asks, frowning. “What did he do?“

 

Castiel looks at him, seeing the urge to defend his little brother in Lucifer's eyes.

 

“Nothing happened. Really,” he adds, because Lucifer doesn't look like he believes him. “I mean...“ Cas thinks about what Dean said to him – _I thought only girls painted their fingernails._

 

“What?“ Lucifer asks, stressing the word now.

 

“He just... he kinda made fun of my fingernails, but...“

 

“That fucker,” Lucifer mutters under his breath. “What did you do?“

 

“I told him to keep his opinion to himself and then I walked away,” Castiel answers honestly.

 

Lucifer seems torn apart between being disappointed that Cas didn't punch this guy, and being proud of him for being mature enough to just walk away from that idiot.

 

Cas thinks it's for the best when he doesn't mention that _this idiot has the most beautiful eyes he's ever seen_. He swallows. He doesn't want to think about that again. He doesn't want to think about _green_ again. He stuffed the nail polish in a desk drawer as soon as he entered his room, suddenly angry at himself. Why did he keep it? He should have put it back on the shelf.

 

He can feel his brother's eyes on him. Lucifer probably knows that there's more to it. If Castiel only knew what that is and what it exactly means. He has a hunch, but he doesn't want to admit it, and besides, that's _impossible_. That can't be happening. That _shouldn't_ be happening.

 

“Listen, it was a long day and I just want to sleep,” Castiel tells Lucifer now, because apparently his brother is still waiting for him to continue talking. Lucifer thinks about that for a moment, without looking at Castiel's pleading face.

 

“Ugh, fine. But clean your room,” Lucifer decides, turning off the lights in the kitchen. Relieved, Cas follows him upstairs. “Good night,” Lucifer grumbles, but he's smiling and Castiel smiles back at him.

 

His smile disappears though, as soon as he's alone in his room again. The light is still on and his room is still a mess. Sighing, Castiel collects the empty beer bottles and puts them next to the door. He'll get rid of them tomorrow. After he put the full ashtray on the floor, he changes into sweatpants and a t-shirt, not looking in the mirror at the wardrobe door like always. He already has the feeling that this week is going to be really stressful and, _because it's only Monday_ , he really hopes he's wrong.

 

Tuesday goes by and Castiel realizes that he was indeed wrong. This week isn't going to be stressful. It's just going to be _dreadful_. Now, he wishes he hadn't been wrong.

 

Castiel knows that his friends are waiting for him and the new boy – Dean – to clash. He notices how they stare at him, when they meet Dean in the hallways or the cafeteria or on the schoolyard. But Cas does everything he can to avoid staring at the boy with the green eyes. He ignores him. He just pretends Dean isn't there. Because he doesn't want to clash with him. To his cost, on Tuesday he has to acknowledge that Dean is in his English class.

 

Dean is already sitting in the back of the classroom, when Cas enters the room. He doesn't know why, it just happens – he looks around boredly and his eyes meet Dean's. They stare at each other for a few seconds before Castiel looks away and sits down at his place in the front row, trying not to think about _why_ Dean was looking at him. But he could swear that he feels Dean _still_ looking at him. He resists raising his eyes from his notebook to look over his shoulder and he ignores the goosebumps on his arms for the rest of the lesson.

 

Wednesday and Thursday bristle with small difficulties. It starts with Cas being forced to stop pretending like Dean Winchester isn't there right in the first break, when a book crashes into the lockers, only a few inches away from his head. Startled, he looks up. Tough, it wasn't Dean who threw the book. It was Malachi.

 

Meg, who stands next to him, rolls her eyes. Apparently, Malachi – one of Alastair's _closest friends_ – wanted to daunt the new boy already, probably to make a first impression of what it would mean to mess with Alastair and his gang. Alastair hasn't shown up yet. Castiel hasn't seen him since he left the school last Friday. He is unconcerned about that. Every day without Alastair is a good day and it isn't unusual for Alastair not to come to school for a few days. Besides, Castiel really has enough to deal with. And he doesn't want to have keeping Alastair in his place every single day. That's just annoying. Alastair should finally start to learn where his place is – _beneath_ Castiel.

 

Or at least, he should tame his 'friends', like Malachi who was so eager about bullying the new boy that he didn't even notice Cas standing only a few meters away from him.

 

After the book landed on the floor – Dean's math book, apparently –, there is an uneasy silence in the hallway. Everyone is staring at the three boys, not moving, not saying a word. Dean looks angrily at Malachi, but when he glances at Castiel his eyes fill with curiosity for a moment that gets replaced by more anger almost immediately, though. It would have caught Castiel's attention, if the circumstances were different.

 

Now, everyone is just looking at him, waiting in anticipation – or fear – for a fight. But Castiel didn't sleep well the last nights so he's fucking tired, and he really has better things to do. He is content with just glaring at Malachi and watching him turning pale, while he's realizing his mistake. Cas knows Meg is smirking behind his back. He gives Malachi one last withering glare before turning around and walking away. Meg follows him, still smirking. She glances over her shoulder before they turn the corner. Cas can't help it; he does it, too. Malachi isn't there anymore – he probably ran off instantly – and Dean just picked up his book from the floor. Cas swallows and keeps walking before Dean can look up – before they lock eyes _again_.

 

The thing is, it doesn't seem like he can get away from Dean. Somehow he's always where Cas is, and _how the hell is he supposed to ignore this boy?_ Castiel always just tries to look in the opposite direction of Dean, but fucking shit, he can _feel_ Dean's presence. He _knows_ he is there. And he catches Dean staring at him a few times. But it's weird, because Dean gets angrier with every time. It's so clearly visible in his green eyes and his clenched fists, although he tries to hide it. But his neutral facial expression can't fool Castiel.

 

And Cas is already thinking about possible reasons why Dean could be angry, when he realizes what he's doing. He frowns. He isn't supposed to think about this boy. He doesn't _want_ to think about this boy. What is wrong with him? He knows why he shouldn't think about Dean. Why he _can't_ think about Dean. It's Thursday, he's sitting with his friends in the cafeteria since they have lunch break, and he makes the promise to himself that he's going to stop thinking about Dean Winchester.

 

On Friday, his promise to himself is already put to the test.

 

Castiel is on his way to the cafeteria together with Charlie and Kevin. They're talking about nothing particular and Cas forgets about it as soon as a loud bang interrupts them. They all look up, just in time to see how Dean seizes Gadreel by the collar and slams him against the lockers. Their backpacks are laying on the floor, completely forgotten.

 

And something just _blows_ in Castiel's mind and then everything happens very fast.

 

Before he knows it, he already stands next to the two boys who are struggling with each other. Dean doesn't let go of Gadreel's pullover and Gadreel tries to get rid of Dean. Castiel can hear Charlie yelling something, but the words don't arrive in his brain. Castiel grabs Dean's wrists, who only notices him now and he looks at him surprised. Dean probably loosens his grip a bit just because he's confused for a moment, but Cas can pull him off of Gadreel. The green-eyed boy still stares at him, taken aback, and then he already gets slammed against the opposite lockers by Castiel.

 

“The hell you think you're doing, man?“ he asks Cas angrily.

 

“What the hell _I'm_ doing? What the hell are _you_ doing?“ Castiel asks back, feeling furious suddenly. He hasn't felt this angry for a long time and he doesn't even know exactly why he's feeling this way right now. He blames the fact that Dean just attacked one of his friends, but he's also kind of distracted because he notices how close he and Dean are right now. And _fuck_ , he could count the freckles on Dean's face.

 

He swallows. Fuck. Fuck this. And fuck this boy in front of him. He doesn't _need_ this. He doesn't _want_ this. Rage is pumping through his veins. There is a ringing in his ears. His grip on Dean's shirt tightens when Dean tries to move, and he pushes him back against the lockers.

 

“Get off of me!” Dean growls.

 

“Stay away from my friends!“

 

“Then they should stay away from me. I didn't start this,” Dean says, being just as angry as Castiel.

 

“What?“ Gadreel shouts, and Castiel turns his head slightly to be able to look at him. Gadreel tries to shake off Charlie now, who has put her hands on his chest to soothe him. She's standing in front of him, putting herself between him and Dean. Kevin stands next to them, watching the scene carefully. He locks eyes with Cas and raises an eyebrow, but neither him nor Charlie say a word.

 

“I didn't do anything!” Gadreel says now, his voice still louder than usual. Dean begins to talk back, but Cas interrupts him.

 

“Shut up, both of you!“ His voice is even louder than Gadreel's, and he knows his anger is clearly noticeable now but that's all right. He _wants_ Dean to know that he's angry, that he's downright _pissed_. Because of him.

 

“I don't want to hear this,” he says, more quietly but also more dangerously, looking at Dean again. “Because I don't care.“

 

Dean wants to protest, but Cas just keeps talking. “You think you can just come here and mess everything up?“ he asks Dean. “You want to be the _new bad boy_? Please, knock yourself out. But if I'll see again that you hurt one of my friends, you have a serious problem.“ They look at each other for a few moments, Castiel as dismissive as possible. He wants to make Dean aware of how much he _despises_ him, once and for all.

 

Then, he lets go of Dean's shirt and takes his backpack out of Kevin's hand (apparently, he let it fall on the floor, just like Dean and Gadreel before him, but he didn't even notice it). Without looking at his friends or Dean, he walks away quickly, storming out of the school as fast as he can.

 

Castiel spends the rest of the break walking towards Missouri's shop, smoking two cigarettes, when he suddenly just stops. He wants to see Missouri, he wants her to calm him down again, because he knows for sure she is able to do that. And he knows that he wouldn't have to explain anything to her.

 

For a moment, he just stands there. It's cold, but it's enjoyable. The bitter wind tugs at his hair and numbs his skin, but that's okay. Castiel welcomes it. He bites his lip and closes his eyes, brooding over what to do now. But a few minutes pass and he still just stands there. A car drives by him and it starts to snow.

 

With a sigh, he turns around, walking back to school. Though, he doesn't know why. He just does it, but he tries not to think about anything, especially not about that his last class for today is English. And _the green-eyed boy_ is in that class.

 

Castiel is a couple of minutes too late. He apologizes briefly, not caring about the scolding look Mr. Wyatt shoots him, and just sits down at his place, without looking around. He feels weird. He tries to concentrate, but he isn't able to listen to Mr. Wyatt. Instead, he focuses on his breathing and on calming down. He's still angry.

 

He's still so _fucking_ angry and that's the reason why it takes him almost the entire lesson to figure out what's bothering him. He already felt it when he sat down. Something is _missing_.

 

When he realizes it, he looks around to make sure. His eyes fall on the empty seat in the last row and he bites his lip, turning back to Mr. Wyatt. Suddenly, he feels dizzy.

 

_Dean isn't there._

 

He looks down at his notebook. He only wrote the date on the page. He swallows and looks back up at Mr. Wyatt, who's still talking and completely unaware of Castiel's inner turmoil. And Cas wonders, _why_? Why the fuck does it bother him _so much_ that Dean isn't there?

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am soooo sorry it took me so long again to write a chapter! I was really busy and on some days, I didn't have any time to write. But it was all in my head the whole time, and finally it's all written down :)  
> I really hope you'll like it, and where we're going. There will be a few new characters in this chapter and I hope you're as excited as I am. As always, I'm looking forward to your comments :D  
> Hope you have an awesome day!!  
> ~ KC

Dean doesn't remember for how long he's already stumbling through the forest. He barely remembers leaving the school building and going into the forest. Branches hit him in the face every now and then, he gets caught on the bare branches of some bushes, and twigs break under his heavy boots. He hardly notices any of that.

 

He doesn't even notice the cold and the bitter wind, although he usually _never_ misses the opportunity to complain about winter and the cold that comes along with it. But there's just so much going on in his mind right now, and he just can't focus on the cold. Even though he doesn't want to focus on his thoughts either.

 

At some point, he stops walking and leans against the trunk of a tree. Snowflakes get entangled in his hair, they land on his shoulders and the ground. He looks around and watches how it starts to snow heavier. Dean doesn't care. And he just wishes he wouldn't care about _anything_ , but he does and it makes him so angry.

 

With agitated hands, he fishes his cigarette pack out of the pocket of his jacket and finishes off the first cigarette with hurried drags. It doesn't calm him down, and neither does the second or the third cigarette. The thoughts are swirling through his head at full speed and it's driving him crazy. He wants it to stop. He doesn't want to think about anything.

 

He doesn't want to think about how much he hates it here. He doesn't want to think about that he wants to go back to Bobby. He doesn't want to think about how he isn't able to help his little brother to feel better. And he especially doesn't want to think about _fucking_ _blue_. That's what bothers him the most right now, because he can't get it out of his head. When he closes his eyes, there's only _blue_. When his eyes are open, there are speckles of blue, blurring his vision. And he  hates it, because he knows exactly what blue it is, where it belongs – _to_ _whom_ _it belongs._

 

Dean presses his knuckles to his eyes. God, he just wants this to _stop_. He scoffs. God is the last person that could help him.

 

He opens his eyes again and there are only trees in front of him. For now, he ignores the blue in his mind, because he also has a different problem. He doesn't even know where he is. He didn't pay attention where he's walking. He just wanted to get away from the school, from these people, from... _him_ _._

 

Fucking blue.

 

With a resigned sigh, he looks at his phone. _Fuck._ School ended 28 minutes ago. And Sam has sent him a text message, saying that he walked home alone since Dean was nowhere to be found. Great. Now, he has a guilty conscience on top of it all.

 

He huffs a humorless laugh. He's out of favor with Sam at the moment anyway.

 

It has started on Monday. It was an awful day and Sammy was in such a bad mood. Dean has just wanted to make him feel better. But of course, it didn't work like he wanted it to. He should have known better.

 

He has bought some wall paint for Sam's room on Monday (white and blue) as well as some simple white paint for the cupboards in the kitchen. And at first, everything was like he has wanted it to. Sure, Sam wasn't as excited as Dean hoped he'd be, but they moved Sam's wardrobe away and painted the wall behind it white, since it was the wall that looked the worst. The other walls got some blue parts and now, Sammy's room looks significantly better and he was happy about it for like two hours, while they painted the cupboards in the kitchen.

 

And then, John came back home from work.

 

Dean still doesn't understand why it went so horribly wrong. Why John has been so angry. He shouted for over half an hour at them – _why they had bought paint... why they had wasted money on something like that... why they hadn't asked..._

 

Dean tried to explain that he bought the paint on his own and also with his own money. John asked where he got that money. Dean answered that he's helped Bobby in his garage sometimes and Bobby has paid him. Somehow, this answer made John really furious. He yelled at Sam – Sammy who hadn't anything to do with it. Dean tried to keep Sam out of this, but it was already too late. And John just continued yelling, finding more and more reasons to be angry at them. They didn't continue to unpack, Dean didn't do his homework, they didn't wait dinner for him. Sam said they only had some sandwiches for dinner, but John didn't listen to him. It was all just a fucking _catastrophe_.

 

Sam was (and still is) mad at Dean, not necessarily for buying the paint, but for making things even worse. John was (and still is) mad at both of them for whatever reasons. There has been a very tense atmosphere at home this week, since they all haven't really talked with each other.

 

And then today this guy, this Gadreel bumped into him on purpose and honestly said _Use your eyes, you idiot!_ … That was the last straw. Dean just grabbed him and wanted to beat the shit out of him, but Novak had to butt into it. And to top it all, since then Dean can't get _blue_ out of his fucking head.

 

When he starts walking again, it's still snowing. Heavy snowflakes are whirling around him, it's even colder now and he's freezing. He buries his hands into the pockets of his jacket, but his fingers are already numb and so is his face.

 

It takes him more than an hour to get out of the forest. When he finally stands on firm ground again, he finds himself next to the place-name sign. He curses loudly, startling some birds above him. _This fucking forest._

 

As he walks back home, he smokes three more cigarettes, ignoring the thoughts bouncing against his skull as best he can. He concentrates on the snowflakes that land on his skin that's numb by now, on the sound of his boots on the asphalt that's covered with a layer of snow – just anything that doesn't remind him of blue. Two cars drive past him, their headlights blinding him for a few seconds, because it's late afternoon and due to the season of the year and the dark grey clouds above him, it's getting dark around him very fast.

 

He finally turns the corner and sees their house after another half an hour. The Impala is parked in the driveway, so their father is probably home. Dean swallows nervously, but he opens the door and enters the house. At first, he thinks he can make it to his room without anyone noticing him. But then, John comes out of his bedroom and stops dead, when he sees Dean standing in the hallway.

 

“The hell have you been?“ John asks loudly and Dean flinches a bit. _Terrific._ This day just gets better and better.

 

“I just...,” Dean starts, not even knowing what to say, but it doesn't matter, because John interrupts him immediately. “You know, I'm so _sick_ of you doing your thing and forgetting about everyone else.“

 

Dean looks at his father with raised eyebrows. He feels his anger running through his blood once again, and he clenches his jaw. Without thinking about it, he pushes his next words out of his mouth. “That sounds more like _you_ , don't you think?“

 

“What?“ John says angrily.

 

“Dean?“

 

Dean looks past John. Sam is standing on the upper steps of the staircase, his eyes wandering from John to Dean and back to John. “Go to your room, Sammy. I'll be right there,” Dean says, trying to make Sam understand that he shouldn't interfere.

 

“No, you won't,” John says. “Not until we made something clear.“

 

“And what?“ Dean asks aggressively.

 

“You don't talk to me like that!“ John looks just as angry as Dean feels. “Now answer my question. Where have you been?“

 

“That's none of your business!“

 

“Watch your tone!“ John says, pointing with a finger at Dean. “I'm your father. You have to respect me, and...“

 

Dean scoffs. “Respect _you_?“

 

He just can't do this anymore. This whole week has been a total _disaster_. The new school. All these people at the new school, from this annoying guy in the hawaiian shirt to this douchebag Gadreel. All these encounters with Novak. All the failed attempts to make Sam feel better. The fight with John earlier this week. The tense atmosphere at home. And now _this._

 

“How am I supposed to respect you?“ Dean asks, looking at John in disbelief. He doesn't pay attention to Sam who's shaking his head behind John.

 

John narrows his eyes. He's completely focused on Dean. “What do you mean by that?“

 

“That I can't respect you!“ Dean shouts, ignoring Sam who looks scared now, probably because John is clenching his fists. “I mean, _how_? How am I supposed to respect you?“ Dean continues. “You lose every job after a few months. We always move around. You won't accept help. You're never there. You're an alcoholic. I could go on and on.“

 

Suddenly, Dean feels so fucking drained and helpless. He runs his fingers through his hair. It's like his anger got pumped out of him all at once. He's just so fucking _tired_. He doesn't even care if John is mad at him now – or if he punches him.

 

Dean can practically feel himself going numb, and it _scares_ him.

 

He looks at his father and then at Sam. John does look angry, but he also looks kind of surprised and he doesn't move. Sam still looks scared, but he shoots Dean a questioning look, raising one of his eyebrows. Now, Dean is the one who's shaking his head.

 

He scratches his neck and just walks by John, who still doesn't move. He ruffles Sam's hair when he's at a level with him, nodding towards his room. Sam follows him without saying a word and Dean locks his door after they entered his bedroom.

 

Dean doesn't know what to expect. Maybe John wants to vent his anger later. _Better safe than sorry_ , he thinks, and shrugs off his jacket, throwing it onto his desk chair. Sam sits down on his bed, still looking at him questioningly.

 

“What?“ Dean asks, slumping down next to his little brother.

 

“What happened?“ Sam asks quietly. He seems worried. This is the first time, they actually talk to each other since Monday.

 

“Nothing,” Dean says, his voice as quietly as Sam's. They're almost whispering.

 

“It doesn't seem like nothing,” Sam mutters, biting his lip. Dean just stares at him for a moment.

 

“It's not...“

 

“...my business?“ Sam asks, looking away. Dean swallows. He tries to fight against the numbness inside of him. _This is Sammy_ , he tells himself. _You care about him. He's your little brother. You_ have _to care about him. You have to be there for him, no matter what._

 

He swallows again. “I had a bad day and I skipped my last class. I went into the forest and got lost,” he says honestly. “That's why I wasn't there.“

 

Sam looks at him and nods. “What happened? Why did you have a bad day?“ he asks.

 

“Stuff happened,” Dean mumbles, shrugging his shoulders.

 

“Has it something to do with this Novak guy?“

 

Dean looks up, surprised. He licks his lips. “You know him?“

 

“I saw him a few times,” Sam answers.

 

“And why do you think he's the reason I had a bad day?“ Dean asks, even though it's true. Partly, at least.

 

“I don't know. I just heard some things, so I thought...“

 

“What things?“ Dean sits up straight.

 

“People are talking about him. He moved here about four years ago, together with his brother and his father. Mr. Novak is rarely at home, but apparently his brother is kinda okay. But, uh, _Cassiel_...“

 

“Castiel,” corrects Dean automatically, biting his tongue right away. _Blue_ comes back into his mind, taking control of his thoughts again. Fuck...

 

“Yeah, anyway,” Sam continues, not noticing Dean's discomfort. “He broke someone's nose. Some guy called him a faggot and he just turned around and punched him in the face. And since then, almost no one dares to mess with him. He's still beaten up a lot of people from what I've heard.“

 

Dean huffs a small laugh, feeling the numbness slowly leaving his mind just like his anger did a few minutes ago. He bites his lip, wrinkling his brow slightly and trying to understand it.

 

“People are also talking about you,” Sam says casually. Dean frowns, looking at Sam again.

 

“Yeah?“

 

“Yeah.“ Sam nods. Dean can imagine what they're saying about him. He isn't sure if he wants Sam to hear it. But apparently, it's too late for that anyway.

 

They lapse into silence after that, and later Dean sneaks into Sam's bedroom, getting his pyjama and a book for him, and then into the kitchen, grabbing two cans of coke, two forks and a pie for him and Sammy.

 

Sam doesn't ask any more questions. But he glances at Dean every now and then. They still don't talk like they usually do. Sam is also still angry and tired, and Dean doesn't know how to make him feel better. He doesn't know what to do, what he could do, or what he could say. He's just so fucking tired. He doesn't want to think anymore. He just wants to sleep.

 

At least, Sam doesn't have anything against sleeping in Dean's bedroom. They both just know too well what can happen, when John Winchester is angry. And he's sober right now. Sometimes, it's even worse when he's sober.

 

Almost as soon as Dean switches off the light later, Sam falls asleep. Dean wishes he could fall asleep like that as well. But of course, it takes hours until his mind is finally calm enough to sleep.

 

 

* * *

 

Friday night goes by and Castiel's mind is in a haze, due to alcohol, cigarettes and lack of sleep. It's almost 3 am, when Lucifer comes into his room, telling him to go to sleep.

 

“I'm not tired,” Castiel says, looking at his big brother He's barely able to keep his eyes open.

 

“You're a terrible liar, do you know that?“ Lucifer asks, taking the ashtray and two empty beer bottles that are laying on the bed. He puts them on the floor for now.

 

“I don't want to sleep,” Castiel mutters, a lump forming in his throat. He doesn't want to admit it, but either his dreams are about _green_ and a certain boy, or they are about things he doesn't want to remember.

 

Lucifer looks at him, worry in his eyes. He has tried to talk to Cas again, a few times. He wants to know what's wrong. Why Castiel smokes and drinks this much again. Why it's so bad again. What's happened.

 

Castiel can't talk about it. He visited Missouri this afternoon, but he also can't talk with her about it. Because he doesn't _understand_ it. And he doesn't even want to think about it. So he drinks and smokes, and it helps – to some extent at least.

 

Without saying a word, Lucifer leaves the room all of a sudden. Cas looks after him, confused and tired. When Lucifer comes back, he's holding a small bottle with sleeping pills in his hand. “You have to sleep,” he says simply. Castiel just nods, taking them and falling asleep shortly after, finally sleeping without dreaming.

 

When Cas wakes up, he feels good – rested. He hasn't felt like this for a while now. Sleepily, he looks at his alarm on his bedside table. It's 10:34 am. He stretches his arms and legs, and a yawn climbs up his throat. Closing his eyes again, he rolls on his side, pulling his blanket tighter around his body, getting comfortable again. It was very late when he finally fell asleep, so he can sleep some more. Lucifer will probably wake him up when it's time for lunch.

 

But he's almost drifting off to sleep again, when he hears them – two loud voices. He sits up immediately, still sleepy, still tired, and also confused. He furrows his brow, tilting his head slightly and trying to understand what the voices are saying. But they're getting quieter again. He's pretty sure one of the voices belongs to Lucifer, but he wonders who else is there, and why they are fighting. He thinks he knows who it _could_ be, but he really hopes he's wrong.

 

Cas groans, sinking back into his pillows. Now, he is awake. He runs his fingers through his messy hair, yawning again. The voices get louder, but he still isn't able to understand the words they're saying.

 

He bites his lip, but then he gets up because there's no point in staying in bed, when he can't go back to sleep. While he walks to the door, he thinks that he's probably wrong. But he knows that he only thinks that because he _wants_ to be wrong.

 

Castiel shuffles through the hallway on the first floor, briefly stopping in the bathroom to take a quick piss and to have a look in the mirror. His hair is a mess, the strands are sticking out, and he has dark circles around his eyes. He's still so fucking tired.

 

But nevertheless, he walks out of the bathroom and down the hallway, downstairs. He hears the voices again; they are coming from the kitchen. Castiel stops at the foot of the stairs and just listens for a moment.

 

“I can come here, whenever I want! It's _my_ house!“

 

“That's not what I'm talking about! I'm just saying that you could have _announced_ yourself. One quick call or a text message – is that too much to ask for?“ That's the voice of his brother Lucifer. The other voice also belongs to a man and of course, Castiel recognizes it right away. So he was right. Now, he _definitely_ wishes he had been wrong.

 

“That's ridiculous!“

 

“No, it's not. It's...“ Lucifer stops talking, when he sees Castiel standing in the doorway. They lock eyes for a moment and Cas shrugs his shoulders before his eyes wander to the man, who's just turning around to see the reason why Lucifer interrupted himself.

 

“Castiel,” Bartholomew says coldly.

 

“Father,” Cas greets him, returning the cold look he gets. Lucifer stares from their father to Castiel and back to Bartholomew.

 

Castiel doesn't feel rested and relaxed anymore. His muscles are tense, his jaw is clenched, and he can already feel a bad headache starting to burn behind his eyes. This doesn't make anything better. Why is his father here?

 

He walks over to the counter, getting a cup of coffee. He turns his back to his family, pouring milk and sugar into the cup, stirring the coffee with a spoon and taking his time. Then, he makes the decision that he can just ask his father why he's here. That there's going to be a fight – _that's for sure._ They always fight. Why should they stall it, when there's going to be a fight anyway?

 

“Why are you here? Shouldn't you be in Boston?“ Cas turns around, taking a sip from his coffee and eyeing Bartholomew, who sat down on one of the chairs around the kitchen table.

 

He squints at him. “I was in Boston. Now, I'm here.“

 

“Yeah, I've noticed. But _why_?“ Castiel stresses. He doesn't want Bartholomew here, and Bartholomew knows that. Hell, _Bartholomew_ doesn't even want to be here. So, why does he show up suddenly, completely unannounced?

 

“Like I said to your brother already, _this is my house._ I can come here, whenever I want. I don't have to tell you when, or why.“

 

Castiel scoffs, and he sees Lucifer's smirk for a brief moment. “Fine. Don't tell us. I don't care anyway.“

 

“How's school?“ Bartholomew asks, ignoring Castiel's words.

 

“Why do you care?“

 

“ _I'm your father_!“ Bartholomew says through gritted teeth.

 

“We didn't hear anything from you for a little over two months,” Lucifer remarks, and Cas nods.

 

“We can't really complain about that though,” Castiel mutters, and Bartholomew hears him. He stares at him, an angry twinkle in his eyes.

 

“You just can't shut up, can you?“ Bartholomew says quietly – dangerously. “You always cross the line.“

 

Cas just scoffs again, returning the look of his father. Then, he shrugs, sipping his coffee. “Sounds like me, doesn't it?“ he asks. Lucifer smirks again.

 

But Bartholomew gets up. For a moment, it seems like he doesn't know what to say. They just stare at each other. Lucifer straightens himself; he shoots Castiel a warning look, but Cas is already in such a bad mood, he can't _believe_ he woke up just a few minutes ago, feeling totally content.

 

“It's always the same with you and that pisses me off!“ Bartholomew found his voice again at last.

 

“Well, I could say the _exact_ same thing to you!“ Cas shoots back, putting his cup so fiercely on the counter, coffee splashes over. Again, they're staring at each other, probably having the same thought in mind – _i_ _f looks could kill.._.

 

“Okay, that's enough,” Lucifer says loudly, putting himself between Bartholomew and Castiel.

 

“That's _not_ your decision, Lucifer,” Bartholomew growls, staring at Castiel. His eyes are full of hate, but that's not unusual when he's looking at his son.

 

“No, he's right,” Castiel says. “It's enough.“ With that, he just turns away and leaves the kitchen before his father is able to stop him. Downright furious, he storms upstairs and into his room, slamming the door shut.

 

He groans loudly, burying his face in his hands. Why did his father have to come back _just_ _now_?

 

Eyes still closed, he lets himself fall onto the bed, burying his face in the pillows. Maybe he can just fall asleep again and forget that Bartholomew is here. He realizes that he didn't even ask how long he's going to stay, and Bartholomew didn't mention it. Castiel hopes it won't be too long, especially because they already had a fight after being in the same room for only two minutes. The longer Bartholomew stays, the more fights they are going to have. And Cas _really_ isn't in the mood for that.

 

Right now, he just wants to go back to sleep. He wants to feel content again. Those few moments after he woke up were a bliss.

 

Castiel is so focused on falling asleep again, he barely hears the doorbell and someone opening their front door. A part of his mind notices it, though, and wonders who comes over to their house on a Saturday morning. This part also wonders briefly if Bartholomew or Lucifer opened the door. But does it really matter? He doesn't know. His mind is half awake, half asleep, and it's not that bad. At least, the thoughts in his mind calmed down a bit and aren't racing anymore.

 

He doesn't hear the steps on the stairs, so he jumps a little when his bedroom door gets opened all of a sudden, and a voice says, “Hello, darling.“

 

A British accent.

 

“Oh no, since when are you back?“ Castiel asks, rolling on his back and staring at Crowley.

 

“Three hours,” Crowley answers, looking around with an amused smile and eyeing a few empty beer bottles on the floor. “Fun night?“

 

“Fuck you,” Castiel mutters, sitting up and glaring at Crowley, who just shrugs his shoulders.

 

Cas bites his lip, staring at his hands in his lap. “Bartholomew is back.“

 

“Yeah, Lucifer told me.“

 

Castiel looks up again. He sees the questioning look in Crowley's eyes, and he wonders what he looks like to him. They haven't seen each other for almost four weeks. Castiel feels bad and he looks accordingly. But he knows that Crowley won't ask him what's wrong, or what happened. He'll wait until Cas volunteers information about it. And Cas realizes that's exactly what he needs right now. Someone who distracts him, who will talk to him about anything and everything, _but_ his problems.

 

“Breakfast?“ he asks and Crowley nods. “Sure. Pamela's diner?“

 

“Yes.“

 

Five minutes later, they leave the house – after Castiel put on some clothes that doesn't reek of beer and cigarette smoke, and they told Lucifer where they're going. They didn't see Bartholomew, though his car is still there, parking in the driveway next to Lucifer's car. Castiel assumes his father is in his bedroom / office, but he also doesn't really care.

 

They walk in silence to the main street. Crowley offers Cas a cigarette and he takes it. It's snowing again, it's cold and Castiel is wearing his trenchcoat. He knows Crowley doesn't like it, but the Brit doesn't say anything about it. Besides, he's wearing that _ridiculous_ black pea coat, so he really isn't in the position to give _clothing_ _advice_.

 

Castiel relaxes when they enter Pamela's diner. It's almost like Missouri's shop. Here is just a calming atmosphere, but in the diner it's because of Pamela, who's talking to a black girl at the moment.

 

“Hey, Pamela. Billie,” Castiel greets them. A small smile is playing on his lips.

 

“Cas!“ Pamela pulls him into a hug. “Haven't seen you in a while. How are you?“ she asks. Castiel nods and shrugs his shoulders at the same time. “I'm okay.“

 

“Sure,” she says, but doesn't dig deeper. Castiel is glad that he's mostly surrounded by people who often understand when he doesn't want to talk, or when he can't talk about something. Pamela definitely belongs to these people.

 

They met a week after Castiel had moved into town. He searched for a place to finish reading his book and it was raining heavily, and Pamela's diner was perfect for that. They started to talk and soon, this diner became an option to withdraw. And Pamela became a very good friend.

 

She's an energetic woman with wise eyes, a friendly smile and dark hair.

 

“Hey, Billie,” Crowley says with a smug smile after he greeted Pamela.

 

Billie hugs Cas, rolling her eyes and asking Cas quietly, “Did you really have to bring _him_ with you?“

 

Cas huffs a small laugh. “He'll behave.“

 

“Excuse me, will I?“ Crowley asks.

 

“You will, or you'll get kicked out,” Pamela answers with raised eyebrows. Apologetically, Crowley raises his hands and then he sits down at one of the tables, grinning. Castiel and Billie sit down across from him.

 

“Why can't I go anywhere with you?“ Cas asks him.

 

“What?“ Crowley asks, looking excessively offended. Billie chuckles, and with that the topic is settled.

 

“Hey, guys.“ Castiel turns his head and sees Madison coming over to their table.

 

“What can I get you?“ she asks with a smile. Madison is a waitress in Pamela's diner for two years now, and she's always friendly – as long as people are friendly towards her. Castiel likes that they have this in common. Also, she is funny and has the kind of smile that makes other people smile.

 

“Coffee, black. And an English bagel with ham and cheese,” Crowley says. Billie already had breakfast but she takes another hot chocolate. There's nothing like Pamela's hot chocolate, it's simply fantastic since she's making it with original Swiss chocolate.

 

“French toast with bacon for me and also a hot chocolate, please,” Castiel says. Madison nods and writes it all down on her pad before disappearing into the kitchen.

 

“What are you doing here?“ Castiel asks Billie.

 

She shrugs. “I wanted to have a peaceful morning. That kinda worked, well at least until you two came in here.“ Castiel chuckles.

 

“I didn't do anything,” Crowley says. Billie raises her eyebrows at him, but before she can say anything, Castiel does.

 

“How was being back home?“ he asks Crowley, who leans back into his seat.

 

“Demanding.“

 

“ _Demanding_?“ Billie asks and Cas tilts his head slightly. “I thought you were looking forward to going home for almost four weeks,” he says slowly.

 

“Yeah, of course,” Crowley says with an impatient move of his hand. “I still love our house and the surroundings, and needless to say the alcohol is _way_ better than here, but you know, _the_ _people_ there ruined it.“

 

Castiel scoffs and then shrugs his shoulders. Crowley squints at him. “I'm not wrong when I say that you understand what I mean. Family, right?“

 

“Right,” Cas says with a strained smile. Billie looks at him questioningly.

 

“Bartholomew is back,” Crowley whispers loudly, and she nods in understanding. Madison comes with their orders and they eat in silence, until Pamela sits down next to Crowley.

 

“Everything alright?“ she asks, nodding at their half empty plates. They nod, and Cas smiles at her. “Like always.“ She smiles back, but he knows that she knows that's something's off as well. Why can people read him _so_ _easily_ as soon as they get to know him better? He doesn't like being an open book.

 

He looks out of the window, avoiding the questioning look in Pamela's eyes and thinking of something to say. He tries to think of a topic that will distract the others, so no one asks if something's wrong, but he can't think of a good one. Fortunately, that doesn't matter, because someone just entered the diner and is now standing behind Castiel.

 

“Well, look what the cat dragged in.“

 

Pamela and Crowley look up, Castiel and Billie turn around, but of course, Cas already knows who's there. It's just like when Crowley entered his bedroom and started to talk. Familiarity. Castiel doesn't want to admit it but he likes it. He likes when things, and also people, are familiar. When he knows what he has to say, how he has to react, without even having to know it.

 

This time, it's not a British accent that reaches his ear, though. It's a Louisiana drawl and a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth.

 

“You're almost too late, Benny,” Pamela says jestingly, looking at the watch on her wrist. Benny adjusts the old fisherman hat on his head and huffs a laugh. “I'm dead on time!“

 

“That's why I said almost,” Pamela says, getting up. “You can say hello, but then I want to see you working.“

 

“Of course, ma'am.“

 

Benny slides in next to Crowley, looking at him for a moment. “Since when you're back?“ he asks, squinting at the Brit, and Castiel chuckles. “This morning,”Crowley answers, rolling his eyes.

 

“Couldn't remember if I've seen you this week.“ Benny shrugs his shoulders and Crowley locks eyes with Castiel, silently asking why Benny is a part of their group. But Crowley does this in almost anyone, so Cas just cracks a smile.

 

Madison walks by, flashing a smile while looking at Benny. Crowley giggles and Benny glares at him. “She always does that,” he says, shrugging his shoulders.

 

“ _Sure_ ,” Crowley means sarcastically, sipping at his coffee.

 

“Shut up,” Benny snarls.

 

“Don't,” Castiel says quietly, since Crowley wants to reply once again. They look at him and maybe they see that he doesn't want another fight right now – whether it was a serious fight or not, whether he had something to do with it or not.

 

They remain silent, until Billie's phone makes a noise. “My mom,” she says and looks at the screen. “She wants me to be home for lunch, so I gotta go.“ She gets up and they say goodbye.

 

“See you on Monday,” Castiel says when he hugs her.

 

He and Crowley leave the diner shortly after Billie. They say goodbye to Pamela, Madison and Benny who all have to work, but Benny only has to work till 6 pm and he invites them over. Castiel doesn't want to say no and Crowley can't say no, because Benny's mom makes the best burgers within a 100-mile radius.

 

Castiel sends Lucifer a quick text message, saying he won't be home until at least 11 pm. He thinks it's for the best, when he does something together with his friends today to calm and distract his mind. And he thinks he's lucky to have friends like this.

 

At least, he's not in such a bad mood anymore. That's a start. Who cares about his father and what he thinks of him? Who cares about Dean Winchester and his green eyes and his freckles and his deep voice?

 

Castiel can't help it. A tiny voice in his head says _you_ , but he ignores it for now and follows Crowley to his apartment.

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I'm so incredibly sorry for not updating for so long. There were multiple reasons. I was very busy and also in a dark place again, and I wanted to write, but either I didn't have the time or I wasn't able to write. It was all in my head, everything I wanted to write, all these ideas, what made not being able to write even worse. I can't promise that I will update regularly from now on, because I still don't feel so good. But I love this fanfiction, this idea, it really means a lot to me and I want to finish it. I really hope you can bear with me and that you will continue reading this story nevertheless. 
> 
> I'm looking forward to your comments, to what you think of the new chapter <3
> 
> Hope you have a nice day / week :)
> 
> ~ KC

The next days go by without something significantly happening, and suddenly it's already Wednesday. Dean doesn't know if he's looking forward to tomorrow or not.

 

John hasn't spoken to him since Friday and Dean wonders if his dad was going to say something tomorrow. After all, it's Dean's birthday. And not just any birthday. Tomorrow, Dean is going to turn _18 years old._

 

But he won't do anything. Maybe he'll just steal some of the beers out of the fridge and smoke an extra cigarette. He can't throw a party anyway, because he doesn't have people he could invite to a birthday party. _Who cares?_ It's probably just going to be another day.

 

On Thursday, Dean wakes up early and he hears how John, who had a night shift, comes home. He stays in bed until his alarm goes off, thinking about today. It actually _feels_ just like any other day. Dean doesn't feel special, because it's his birthday – actually, he never did. John Winchester was against all this stuff after the accident – the fire. No birthdays, no Christmases, no Easter were ever celebrated again like they were before the fire.

 

_This fucking fire..._

 

Dean swallows. It's his birthday and he doesn't want to think about this. _Not today._ But when he gets up and looks out of the window, he sees that it has snowed last night. The street, the trees, the cars – everything is covered in white and he remembers that it looked like this, the night when the fire did what it did.

 

He jumps a little when his phone starts to ring. Sighing, he looks at the screen. It's Bobby.

 

“Hey,” Dean says, tearing his eyes away from the snow outside.

 

“Happy birthday!” Bobby says cheerfully. They haven't talked to each other since the first evening at the new house. Dean didn't want to bother him, and he still doesn't want that, so he isn't going to tell Bobby how bad things really are already again.

 

“Thank you, Bobby,” he says, sitting back down on his bed. He rubs his neck.

 

“How are things going?“

 

“Good.“

 

“Good, eh?“ Bobby says doubtfully.

 

“Yeah, I mean...,” Dean starts, thinking of what to say. “Dad is still sober.“

 

“Well, that _is_ good,” Bobby says. Dean nods. “Yep.“

 

“And how's Sam?“

 

Dean bites his lip. How is Sam? He scoffs. “Good. Sam's good,” he mutters.

 

“Sure, Dean,” is all Bobby says. Dean knows Bobby won't ask further questions like this, probably because it's his birthday. Or maybe he knows already that he won't get true answers.

 

“What are you going to do today?“ Bobby asks instead.

 

“What do you mean?“

 

“It's your birthday. Shouldn't you be celebrating, or something like that?“

 

“It's not like I have a lot of people to celebrate with, Bobby,” Dean says with a shrug, even though he's only talking to Bobby over the phone.

 

Silence. Dean feels awkward. It seems like his relationship with Bobby is shifting and changing, now that they don't see each other every day anymore. They used to spend _hours_ together in Bobby's garage and fix cars. Dean realizes once again how good it was at Bobby's. He sighs. Everything is so different.

 

“Hey Bobby, I have to get ready for school,” is Dean's lame excuse to end the phone call. But Bobby doesn't say anything about it and just wishes him a nice day.

 

Dean showers, gets dressed and grabs his backpack, wishing he could just go back to sleep the whole time.

 

Sam is already downstairs. He's waiting in the kitchen for Dean, who is a little bit surprised when he enters the room. Sam made breakfast, even coffee and pancakes, and there's a poorly wrapped present with _Dean_ written on it, laying on the table and waiting for someone to unwrap it.

 

Dean's eyebrows shoot up towards the ceiling in surprise, but Sam just steps in front of him and hugs him with a big smile. “Happy birthday!“ he says loudly, but not loud enough for John to hear in his bedroom.

 

“Wow. Thanks, Sammy.“ A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth and Sam grins up at him. They sit down at the table, Sam pours coffee into a cup for Dean and Dean takes the present, weighing it in his hand. He looks at Sam with raised eyebrows and Sam smiles sheepishly.

 

“It's not much. Bobby gave it to me,” he mumbles, sipping at his own coffee and scrunching up his nose. Dean really doesn't know why Sam is already drinking coffee anyway; he doesn't even like it.

 

Dean unwraps the present. It's a necklace with a pendant.

 

Dean looks up at Sam, who's staring at him expectantly. “I love it. Thank you, Sammy,” Dean says, hanging it round his neck immediately and Sam's face lights up.

 

“Bobby said some amulets have certain powers,” Sam tells him, while they start eating. Dean huffs a small laugh through a mouth full of pancake. “ _Certain powers_?“ he asks with a grin.

 

“Yeah. Maybe it will protect you.“ A sad expression makes its way into Sam's eyes slowly and Dean's grin fades. He gulps.

 

“Thank you, Sammy,” he says again, quietly, and Sam just nods.

 

Dean thinks Sam isn't really mad at him anymore, and he feels lighter somehow because of that. And he thinks – he _wishes_ – that maybe his birthday won't be too bad.

 

During the walk to school and the first period, Dean continues to believe that and he's in a relatively good mood. And then, from the first break, it all goes wrong.

 

It starts with seeing Malachi in the cafeteria, who gives him a weird stare. Dean looks unimpressed back at first, but Malachi doesn't stop staring, only when there's a little turmoil on the other side of the cafeteria. Both, Dean and Malachi look over there, where some kids, Ed and Harry (two huge nerds and apparently best friends) among them, did an unsavory mess with their pasta on the floor.

 

When Dean looks back to where Malachi was standing, the boy is gone and he wrinkles his forehead. Malachi had a curious and also excited expression on his face. Biting his lip, Dean sits down at an empty table, but he decides that he won't care about this. He takes a sip from his coke and when he looks up again, he's met with a certain _blue_ once again.

 

He can practically feel his gaze harden and he clenches his jaw. Castiel blinks and looks away, but Dean stares at him for a few more seconds, shaking his head slightly. This fucking _gorgeous_ boy. He makes him so mad, because Dean _can't stop thinking about him._ He can't stop thinking about this marvelous blue and the black hair and the deep voice, and how it felt to get slammed against a wall by Castiel.

 

He clenches his fists. _Castiel_ _Novak_. Why is he here and ruins Dean's already ruined life a little bit more, just by existing?

 

Dean tries to think about that it's his birthday and that he will celebrate a bit with Sam later to avoid thinking about Castiel. But it doesn't really work, so he just leaves the cafeteria and goes outside. The air is cold and hits him in the face. He groans. He hates winter so fucking much.

 

He looks around with a sour face and spots Charlie, Gabriel and Garth sitting on one of the stone blocks. Charlie looks up and returns his gaze for a few seconds. Dean turns around and enters the building again. He doesn't want to think about Castiel _at all_. But his friends are everywhere. He sees Kevin in one hallway, talking with Gadreel and a guy wearing a black pea coat that Dean has seen smoking with Castiel outside once. Again, he turns around and walks the other way.

 

Nine minutes are left of the break, when he turns some corner and sees three girls standing in front of the lockers. A girl stands across from them, leaning against the wall, and a boy leans against the lockers with his shoulder, facing the three girls.

 

Something is wrong. Dean just _knows_ it.

 

The three girls seem tensed up, the other girl is smirking weirdly and the boy is standing too close to the girls.

 

Dean looks at the scene, thinking. He has seen all the girls before, somewhere in the hallways, but he doesn't know their names. The three girls are friends, he's pretty sure they're always together. The other girl has long dark hair and is undeniably beautiful, wearing tight jeans and a cropped top under a dark leather jacket. He doesn't know if he has seen the guy before, since he can't see his face at the moment.

 

Carefully, he makes a few steps towards them, but no one notices him. Now he can hear what they are saying.

 

“You're all so sweet, especially you, Nancy,” the boy says. He looks at the other girl before continuing to talk, almost as if he's waiting for her to give her permission first. “I honestly can't believe you're still a virgin. We need to change that, don't you think?“

 

Dean hasn't felt this disgusted for a long time, but it makes him close the distance so that he's almost standing right next to the boy. “Hey, maybe you should just fuck off, _don't you think_?“

 

Immediately, all eyes are on him. “Who the fuck are you?“ the boy asks, wrinkling his forehead, confused and angry about the sudden interruption.

 

“You must be Dean,” the girl says and the boy looks at her questioningly, but she's only looking at Dean. He returns her gaze coldly. She seems curious. “So, we finally meet.“

 

“Excuse me, but who exactly are you?“

 

“I'm Ruby,” she answers, smirking again. Then, she nods to the boy. “That's Cole.“

 

“Dean?“ Cole asks, looking questioningly at Dean now.

 

“Winchester,” Ruby says, biting her lip. “ _The one who wants to be a bad boy, too._ “

 

Dean scoffs a small humorless laugh, but recognition flashes in Cole's eyes. The three girls look at them, scared and curious at the same time. Dean looks at them for a second, but that's all the time he needs to make a decision. “Go,” he says simply and he doesn't have to say it again. Cole and Ruby can't even react, so fast do the three disappear.

 

“Who the fuck do you think you are?“ Cole asks angrily, shoving Dean's shoulder. Dean doesn't have to think about it, he just takes Cole's hand, twists it on his back and shoves his face against the lockers.

 

“Who the fuck do you think _you_ are, that you can just touch me?“ Dean asks, twisting Cole's arm a little bit higher before letting go of him. Cole groans in pain. He rubs his wrist and glares at him calculating, but he seems like he can't decide if he should punch Dean or not.

 

Ruby just stares at them, rolling her eyes at Cole with an expression on her face that clearly says what she thinks of him – _that he's an idiot_. She wants to say something, but she gets interrupted.

 

“What's going on here?“

 

Ruby and Cole both look up and a smirk appears on their faces. But a cold shiver runs down Dean's spine. The voice is barely a _snarl_ – cold, arrogant and dangerous.

 

It belongs to a boy and Dean knows immediately that this is Alastair. He remembers what Gabriel told him on his first day and he hates to say it, but he has to admit that Gabriel is _right_.

 

Alastair _is_ super fucking creepy. His cold eyes pierce right through his, and an idly grin spreads on his face.

 

“You are Dean.“ It's not a question.

 

“You are Alastair,” Dean says, straightening.

 

“Ruby and I had a bit fun with some girls, you know? These sweet ladies, Nancy, Rachel and Hester,” Cole starts to tell Alastair immediately. A gross recognition shines in Alastair's eyes. “ _Sweet_ is not the word I'd use, but I know what you mean,” he says and Cole laughs.

 

Dean swallows but before he can do or say something, Cole already continues talking. “He interrupted us and told them to go.“ Cole flashes his eyes at him, gritting his teeth.

 

“Really? Why did you do that, Dean?“ Alastair asks in a low voice. He squints at him, but Dean isn't impressed. Yes, Alastair is _creepy_ , but Dean is _not_ _afraid_ of him.

 

“Because it's disgusting, what he did and said to them,” Dean says calmly.

 

“Ah.“ Alastair scratches his chin with two fingers.

 

“It wasn't any of your business,” Cole exclaims, unable to hide his anger. Dean huffs a breath and simply returns the angry look he gets with a withering glare of his own. Ruby is too quiet for his liking right now and he shoots her a look. She raises her eyebrows at him.

 

“He's right,” she says, shrugging her shoulders. “You should have just kept walking.“

 

Dean smiles at her and shakes his head. “I should have just kept walking? Do you think I'm scared of any of you?“ He looks everyone in the eye for a few seconds.

 

“Well, apparently you are as _stupid_ as you look like.” Alastair laughs eerily. Dean glares at him and rolls his eyes. Alastair takes a couple of steps towards him, never breaking eye contact either.

 

“You shouldn't fuck with us.“

 

“Don't worry, _that_ won't happen,” Dean says, earning another glare from Alastair. “You don't know what you're doing, Dean. Don't pick a fight with someone you can't win against.“

 

“I _always_ win,” Dean says with a small shrug. He's certain this isn't just excessively confidence.

 

“You will lose. More than you're willing to give.“

 

“Yeah?“ he asks, stepping closer to Alastair. “Listen, _you_ _creep._ I don't care what you're saying or thinking, but let me tell you that it's the other way around. _You_ shouldn't pick a fight with _me_.“

 

“And you think we should be afraid of you? Why?“ Alastair furrows his brow as if he's seriously thinking about this question.

 

“You'll see,” is all Dean says, and then he just wants to ditch them, the second the bell rings. But Alastair blocks his way. Dean notices how Cole moves to the side so that he's standing behind him. Ruby doesn't move.

 

“Get out of my way,” Dean sighs. His voice sounds as if he was talking to the annoying bully in first grade, and not to a super fucking creepy boy who's a few inches taller than him.

  
“You don't want to be late for class, Dean?“ Cole asks mockingly from behind him. But Dean doesn't turn around, since he knows Alastair is a guy you don't turn your back on.

 

“I really want to see why I should be afraid of you,” Alastair says slowly. “But I'm more afraid that you will realize you're the one who should be scared. And you will realize that very, _very_ soon.“ He grins broadly, but Dean puts on a bored expression and simply rolls his eyes again.

 

Alastair chuckles, but he takes a step to the side and out of Dean's way. They look at each other for a few more moments, and Dean waits. But no one does or says something. He shrugs his shoulders once again and leaves.

 

He notices that Cole doesn't look so happy, because they let him go. But he knows that Alastair will plan something. He will do something, and Dean doesn't even want to know _what_. This guy is really just super fucking creepy and it's not that difficult to imagine what he's capable of. Dean thinks about the girl who Alastair almost killed. The story just got more plausible after he met Alastair.

 

Dean wonders where Alastair has been, why he didn't come to school for a week and a half. Maybe he can imagine what he did.

 

Of course, he's five minutes too late for his next class and the teacher scolds him, but he barely hears her. He just sits down and ignores everyone for the rest of the lesson.

 

He thinks he knows the reason now why Malachi stared weirdly at him this morning. Malachi belongs to Alastair's group, therefore he had to know that he is back. It was just a matter of time until Dean and Alastair met. Ruby already knew who he was and also Cole had heard about him before. But he only remembers seeing Ruby in the hallways. Then again, he doesn't pay a lot attention to most of the people around him – it's probably not almost a miracle that he didn't know Cole.

 

Dean doesn't see Alastair or any of his group again this day. He doesn't know if it's just coincidence or on purpose, but he also doesn't really care.

 

After school, he meets Sam outside who's already waiting for him and they go home. Dean decides to forget about Alastair and all the others, at least for the rest of the day – for the rest of his birthday. He just wants to spend some time with Sammy, celebrate a little bit, maybe watch some TV and eat junk food.

 

A smile finds its way on Dean's face and Sam returns it. They walk in silence, but it's not uncomfortable anymore. Even seeing the Impala in their driveway doesn't destroy Dean's good mood, although it means that John is there.

 

Sam looks at the car and then at Dean, but Dean just ruffles his hair and opens the front door. He dips into the kitchen but it's empty, and there are some noises that come out of John's bedroom. It sounds like he's pulling moving boxes over the floor. Dean wrinkles his brow; Sam and he had finished the unpacking a few days ago in the rest of the house. Has John still not unpacked all his stuff?

 

He glances at Sam questioningly, who just shrugs his shoulders and goes upstairs. Dean follows him and they have the silent agreement not to care about this today.

 

“What do you want to do?“ Sam asks, when they put their backpacks into their rooms. He's standing in Dean's doorway, and Dean notices that he's grown again. God, some day this kid is going to be taller than him and he's afraid that day will arrive sooner than he wants.

 

Dean shrugs his shoulders. “Let's just watch some TV and eat something.“

 

“We can order food,” Sam says enthusiastically. “I have money.“

 

Dean chuckles. “You don't have to do that. I can pay for it.“

 

“No, it's your birthday,” Sam insists. “You don't need to pay for it. I'll do it.“ He goes into his room to grab his wallet before he goes back downstairs. Dean shakes his head, but he's grinning, and follows Sam into the living room.

 

Sam already turned on the TV and sits on the couch. Dean sits down next to him, taking the remote control from Sam and zaps through the channels, until he finds an old Clint Eastwood movie. He glances at his little brother, but Sam doesn't say anything about Dean's passion for old movies and Clint Eastwood for a change – probably because it's his birthday. Dean thinks that _maybe_ this day comes with a few perks, after all. He relaxes and leans back on the couch.

 

“When do you want to eat?“ Sam asks, mirroring his big brother.

 

“Later,” Dean decides. He wonders for how long he will feel this good, if it's going to last for the rest of the day, when a door opens down the hallway.

 

Dean looks at Sam, who's already sitting up. There a footsteps in the hallway and when Dean turns around on the couch, John is standing in the doorway to the living room. He squints at them and the TV. Sam turns down the volume.

 

“Hey, dad,” Dean says cautiously. John doesn't answer.

 

„Everything okay?“ Dean asks, biting his lip. He assumes that John slept, since he had the night shift. The TV wasn't loud, but he starts to wonder if they woke him up immediately and Sam seems to have the same thought – both of them are forgetting that they heard John rummaging around in his room just a few minutes prior.

 

“What are you doing?“ John asks grumpily. Dean realizes these are the first words they're exchanging since last Friday.

 

“Just watching some TV,” Sam answers the question. John doesn't pay him any attention, his gaze is fixed on Dean. Dean wonders if John is going to say something because of his birthday. Something tells him that he's not going to get a present from his dad, though.

 

“Why?“ John asks.

 

“We just wanted to have a relaxed afternoon and to celebrate a little bit,” Dean says.

 

“Why?“ John asks, sounding genuinely surprised. He looks from Dean to Sam back to Dean, and they realize at the same moment that John _doesn't even know_ today is Dean's birthday.

 

Dean lets sink that in and he doesn't know how to feel about it. Does it really matter? He wants it to matter, because he wants his birthday to be something special, but John doesn't think like this. To John, birthdays aren't important. It's actually not that unlikely that he forgets his son's birthday.

 

 _But still..._ it stings. Dean feels it like a pin in the back of his mind.

 

“Why?“ Sam asks back in disbelief.

 

“Yeah, what's there to celebrate?“

 

Sam stares at Dean with mouth agape and he looks so utterly dumbfounded, normally it would have made Dean laugh. But right now, it makes him even sadder. Because for Sam, today _is_ special. He got him a present and made breakfast for him. He wants to make Dean happy and to celebrate with him. He _remembered_ his birthday. And John didn't.

 

John still doesn't know what's going on. He looks just as confused as Sam, and it seems so _surreal_ to Dean. He wonders why this is always happening to him. Maybe he has no karma. Or simply no luck. Who knows?

 

“Dad, don't you know what day it is?“ Sam wonders, looking back to their father.

 

“It's Thursday,” John answers immediately.

 

“No, I mean the date...,” Sam starts, but then the penny drops. John closes his eyes for a moment, sighing exasperatedly.

 

“Ugh, this is what's it about? _Dean's birthday_?“ he scoffs and Dean looks at the couch, examining a little stain that suddenly seems terribly interesting.

 

“Of course,” Sam says.

 

“It's okay, Sam,” Dean says in a low voice, looking up again and at his little brother, who's shaking his head.

 

“No, it's not. It's your _birthday_. We're supposed to celebrate it together. And he _forgot_ it!“

 

“I forgot it. And?“ John asks, shrugging his shoulders. “It's not important.“

 

Dean expected these words but they still hurt. For a second, he wishes he could just go numb again, but this time the numbness doesn't take possession of his heart or his mind.

 

“It _is_ important. And now you know, so you can sit with us and we can celebrate together.“ Sam speaks confidently and Dean looks at him in amazement. But John isn't impressed. He's getting angry.

 

“No, I won't sit with you and we won't celebrate. Because even though I know now, _I don't care_. It's just another day in his _miserable_ life.“

 

Dean glances at his father. John Winchester is sober. He knows what he is saying. He knows _exactly_ what he is saying. And that means he's saying it _intentionally_. Dean swallows, trying to understand what is happening all of a sudden.

 

“What?“ he asks.

 

“You heard me. I don't care about your birthday. Whatever this here was, it's over now. Both of you, go to your room. Now.“ With that, John turns around, wanting to go into the kitchen.

 

“No,” Dean says – louder than he wanted, louder than he expected his voice to be. Sam jumps a little, also surprised. John turns back around to them, crinkling his forehead. “No?“

 

“No,” Dean says again. “Sam wants to celebrate my birthday. And I want to celebrate it with him.“ Out of the corner of his eye, he sees how Sam starts to smile. But it disappears again right away.

 

“I already said it. I don't care. Do I have to repeat myself?“

 

“Do it. Say it again. I don't care about that,” Dean answers and gets up. John seems surprised, just like last Friday, but this time he regains his composure quickly and draws himself up to his full height. And John is still a bit taller than Dean.

 

“Dean,” Sam whispers and Dean looks at him. Sam slid down of the couch and he's standing now as well, but he's making himself as small as possible. “It's okay, Sammy,” Dean assures him, without even knowing if it's true.

 

“Nothing is okay!“ John shouts suddenly and they both flinch. “Sam, go to your room,” he says with a calmer voice, but he's clenching his fists. Sam darts a glance at Dean, who nods slightly. Sam walks around the couch and then past John. In the hallway, he looks at Dean once more, but he goes upstairs. Dean noticed that Sam upheld a certain distance between him and John, and it breaks his heart because _this isn't right_.

 

When Sam's bedroom door is closed, there's silence and John just stares at Dean. He's clearly angry and Dean doesn't know what to say. But then John starts to talk.

 

“It's always, _always_ the same with you. I've had enough of that!“

 

“You mean, you've had enough of _me_?“ Dean scoffs, but John nods. “Yes. I've had enough of _you_. You're 18 now. You want to celebrate your fucking birthday? How about you finally move out of my fucking house?“

 

Dean blinks. The words that were just floating through his brain disappear all at once. He has no words for _this_ – for what he's feeling right now. Words that he could say to his father. Somehow, they ran out of words. Did they already say all there is to each other and does it just end like _this_?

 

He starts to wonder why the numbness doesn't show up this time.

 

“Go.“ John points to the front door. He's so calm, yet so angry. Dean doesn't know what to say. He looks at the door and back to John. Is that really what he wants?

 

“Go!“ John yells and takes a step towards him. That's it.

 

Dean thinks about Sam, but what can he do? He walks out of the living room, past John, and grabs his jacket. Then, he's outside.

 

It's cold. It's getting dark. And Dean walks down the street, without knowing where he's going. He makes it to the main street, then he stops.

 

Fuck.

 

_Fuck._

 

Sam. He has to go back. Who knows what John is going to do now. But maybe he's satisfied for the time being. He got what he wanted, after all. Dean is gone. But where should he go?

 

He thinks about calling Bobby and his phone is already in his hand, but then he tucks it back into his pocket. No. He will give John some time. He has his keys. He will go back later.

 

Sighing, he keeps walking. At the end of the main street, there's a bar. Without thinking about it, Dean just enters it. It's relatively crowded and he sits down on a stool right in front of the barkeeper.

 

“Hey,” Dean says, but the barkeeper barely looks at him and just takes an order from a woman.

 

“Hey,” Dean says, louder this time. But the barkeeper just walks past him to another customer without so much as looking at him. Dean lets him finish making the drink and then he snaps his fingers. “I said _hey_.“

 

“Yeah, _twice_. Good for you.“

 

Dean blinks at the barkeeper, confused. He scoffs. At least, he finally answered him.

 

“I want to order a drink.“

 

“Also good for you.“ The barkeeper waves to a woman with dark short hair, who just entered the bar. Dean glares at him.

 

“How old are you? Are you even allowed to be here?“ he asks him boredly. Dean notices a British accent.

 

“I just turned 18 today.“ He fishes his wallet out of his pocket, holding up his ID.

 

“That's not necessary,” the barkeeper says, not even glancing at Dean's ID. He just grabs a glass and starts to mix a drink. When he's finished, he puts the glass in front of Dean.

 

“What is that?“

 

“A _purple nurple_.“

 

“A _purple nurple_?“ Dean huffs a small laugh. “Really?“

 

“Try it. You look like you had a shitty day.“

 

Dean looks at the barkeeper. He's a few years older than him. “How much do I look like that?“

 

“A lot,” the barkeeper answers with a shrug. “Drink. And I'd apologize about coming across rude, but that's just how I am.“

 

Dean chuckles, taking the glass, and downs the drink. It's surprisingly good and he orders another one.

 

He's just wondering for how long he has to wait before he can go back home, when a deep voice behind him starts to talk. “Hey, Balthazar.“

 

“Cassie!“ The barkeeper with the British accent smiles at his new customer and Dean turns around.

 

Castiel Novak screws his face up – probably because of the nickname – but nevertheless he smiles at the barkeeper. _They know each other._

 

“ _Cassie_?“ Dean asks with a chuckle, looking at the blue-eyed boy in front of him. Castiel returns his look, squinting at him. But he sits down next to him. Balthazar pours something into a glass and puts it down in front of Castiel, getting a nod from him.

 

“Balthazar thinks he's funny,” Castiel answers, rolling his eyes at the barkeeper, but there's still a small smile playing on his lips. And _god_ , maybe it's just the warm light in the bar – at least, Dean hopes so –, but this boy is so fucking gorgeous and it's absolutely the one thing that he doesn't need right now.

 

What is he doing here? Dean just wanted to kill some time until he is able to go back home; he didn't want to meet this guy. Why did he go into this bar? He could have gone anywhere, but no, he entered the bar where Castiel Novak knows the barkeeper of all things. And of course, Castiel Novak does have to be here as well now.

 

Dean stares at the blue-eyed boy and he hates how endearing the sound of his name his. _Castiel Novak_. Fucking blue. He stares back at him, curiosity lighting up the blue of his eyes. Dean shakes his head. He's had enough. This day just gets worse and worse. And now _this_.

 

“What's wrong?“ Castiel asks suddenly and Dean realizes he hasn't stopped looking at him and he's also clenching his fists.

 

“Nothing. I'm perfectly fine.“

 

Castiel tilts his head, looking at him questioningly. Dean clenches his jaw, tearing his eyes away from the boy, because the word _cute_ starts to float through his mind.

 

“You're not perfectly fine,” Castiel mutters, taking a sip from his drink. “To be honest, you look horrible.“

 

“Yeah, but no one asked you!” Dean says loudly. _Too loud._ He didn't want to say it so loudly. Why is he saying things so loudly today? Does he lose control of his anger?

 

He runs his fingers through his hair. Castiel is staring at him. He's staring _up_ at him. Dean didn't even notice that he got up. Balthazar shoots them a questioning look. Dean is just so fucking angry, he can feel it in every inch of his body. He has the strange feeling that today is going to be even worse than it already is. He has the feeling that something is going to happen.

 

The ocean turns to ice once again, and that just fuels his anger even more. Dean pushes the fact that it also makes him kind of sad to the back of his mind.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little bit shorter than the others, but I hope you won't mind :) we finally start to learn more about Cas and his past, and I hope you all read the tags.  
> Again, tell me what you think and have a nice week <3 I love y'all!! Thank you for reading this story.

Castiel has no explanation for why he entered the bar after seeing Dean Winchester entering it. All he knows right now is that he _regrets_ it.

 

He stood outside for a while, just staring at the neon sign above the door. It was cold and he should have just walked home. It doesn't matter that Dean just entered the bar. It _shouldn't_ matter. The look on Dean's face shouldn't matter. But Castiel hasn't seen such sadness on another person for a really long time. So, maybe it does matter someway.

 

Though, he tried to tell himself that he hasn't seen Balthazar for a while as he opened the door. But really, Dean is the only reason why he entered the bar eventually. He wanted to see this sadness from close up. And _god_ , it makes Dean even more beautiful.

 

Those green eyes aren't filled with tears. But there is a layer on them, dulling and making them shine at the same time – it confuses Cas. There is so much going on behind these eyes, a variety of shadows and lights. He's afraid there's much more darkness than brightness inside of Dean's mind. He has the feeling his own demons are looking back at him. Cas knows such sadness, the feelings that go along with it, and also the burden – as if the whole word is pressing on your shoulders.

 

The sudden wish to see Dean's eyes, his face and just _him_ beam with joy takes over Castiel, and he doesn't know how to shake it off again. He can't even imagine how magnificent Dean would look then.

 

And Dean doesn't stop staring at him. There are a few feelings flashing over Dean's face, but Cas doesn't know what it all means. “What's wrong?“ he asks. He doesn't know why. He just knows there _is_ something wrong and he wants to know what it is. He doesn't want to see Dean like this anymore, even though he shouldn't think like this. But he can't help it. Castiel can do what he wants, but his thoughts and his eyes always wander back to Dean, wherever he is, whatever he's doing.

 

He bites his lip. Dean looks horrible and he wonders what happened. His eyes flicker to Dean's clenched fists and then back to his face. To those green eyes that don't stop staring.

 

“Nothing. I'm perfectly fine,” Dean says.

 

_I'm perfectly fine._

 

These words are so painfully familiar to Cas. He's lost count to how often he already said them, how often he already lied about how he really is, how he really feels. And he can also see the lie in Dean's eyes now.

 

Cas tilts his head. What is Dean's reason? Why is he saying these words? Why is he lying? What happened to him?

 

His head is so full of questions, he barely notices how Dean clenches his jaw and finally breaks eye contact. Again, he doesn't know why, he just does it. The words are just coming out of his mouth. “You're not perfectly fine,” he mutters, having a sip of his drink that Balthazar put in front of him, when he sat down next to Dean. “To be honest, you look horrible.“

 

“Yeah, but no one asked you!“ Suddenly, Dean is standing, and anger darkens the features of his face. His voice is loud, even in the crowded bar. It's _too_ loud. And Castiel can see that Dean noticed that as well. Regret and even more anger are clearly visible in his eyes, as he runs his fingers through his hair. Balthazar shoots them a questioning look, but Cas doesn't pay him any attention.

 

He looks at Dean and his own anger flares up again. He can feel it prickling under his skin, wanting to burst out. Why did he enter the bar? Because he wanted to _see_ Dean, or even to _talk_ with him?

 

Oh yeah, this is working _splendidly_.

 

God, this was so stupid. _He_ was so stupid. He should have just walked home. He could lie in bed right now, sleeping or reading. Or he could be in his living room with Lucifer, watching a movie. And not in this fucking bar with Dean Winchester, wasting his time.

 

He gets up as well. Dean is a little bit taller than him, but that doesn't matter, not to Cas. They stare at each other and Dean seems to be surprised for a second.

 

But he says again, “No one asked you.“ He's shaking his head slightly.

 

“Yeah, you already said that,” Cas scoffs. “I just thought...“

 

“I don't care!“ Dean takes a step towards him. “I don't care,” he repeats.

 

“I don't care that you don't care.“ Cas shrugs his shoulders. “I just wanted to be polite.“

 

“Oh, telling me I'm looking horrible is polite?“

 

“At least, I didn't lie to you. You weren't honest with me.“

 

“ _Oh, please_.“ Dean huffs a small humorless laugh. “Who are you? I don't have to tell you anything. If I wanted to tell you that I'm perfectly fine, then I'll do that.“

 

“I didn't say you shouldn't say that. I just mean that I was honest to you.“

 

“I don't give a fuck about that. And I know that I look horrible. People don't need to tell me that. They need to _stop_ doing that.“

 

“I just wanted to know why,” Cas says, letting the words slip out of his mouth. Maybe it will calm Dean down again, he thinks. But it has the opposite effect. Dean raises his voice again. “Why? Why would you want to know that?“

 

Cas just stares at him. Every word that comes out of Dean's mouth is hard and aggressive. But underneath all the anger, Cas still sees the sadness. And he knows Dean is angry, but Dean's sadness is not an angry sadness. Lucifer's sadness – that's an angry sadness. Castiel knows the difference.

 

Dean's sadness is a sad sadness. It chokes him, makes him feel empty, and invites the numbness into his mind. His anger is just _a side effect_.

 

There has to be a reason, or even multiple reasons, for Dean's sadness.

 

Cas just wants to take it away from him, because no one should walk around with the expression in their eyes, like he has seen in Dean's eyes. It's just _wrong_. And he wants to make it _right_.

 

But hell, he won't tell the boy in front of him any of that.

 

Biting his lip again, he returns Dean's gaze. “Forget it,” he says quietly, wanting to go. He needs to get out of here. He needs fresh air and sleep, and not these fucking green eyes that are staring at him. But Dean steps into his way.

 

“You can't just go now.“

 

“Of course I can just go,” Cas says, confused but firmly.

 

“Leave me alone,” Dean says, stepping closer.

 

“Well, that's what I'm about to do,” Cas says, not stepping back.

 

“No, I mean in general. In school, or if we meet on the street, or in a bar like today. Don't come up to me. Don't talk to me. Just leave me alone,” Dean demands sternly.

 

“If you leave my friends and me alone, then we won't have a problem.“ Castiel frowns, but he straightens himself. He isn't afraid of Dean.

 

Dean chuckles and goosebumps erupt on Cas' skin, but he ignores them. “If you're hinting at the incident with Gadreel, I didn't start it.“

 

“I'm not hinting at anything.“ Now, Castiel's voice is louder than usual. “Just if you want to be left alone, then you should leave other people alone as well. That's all I'm saying.“

 

“Don't worry. I don't want to have _anything_ to do with you and your friends anymore.“ Dean grits his teeth. “I'm just saying, don't do something like today ever again.“

 

“I just entered a bar. I didn't know you were here. I'm friends with the barkeeper.“ Now, Castiel is lying. But does it matter? “But don't worry, it won't happen again.“

 

“Sure.“ Dean huffs a small breath.

 

“What? Do you honestly think I came here, because of you?“ Cas stares at him in disbelief. “Why would I do that? Or don't you believe me that it won't happen again? Why would I want to talk to you again? You're an _asshole_.“

 

“You're a...“ Dean inhales deeply, but he doesn't continue speaking. Either he doesn't know what to say, or he does know but isn't sure if he should actually say it out loud. But the beginning of his sentence came over his lips a little too quickly. Castiel squints at him. “I'm a what?“

 

Dean shakes his head, opening and closing his mouth, without saying something.

 

“I'm a _what_?“ Castiel emphasizes. Dean looks at him, anger and sadness battling in his eyes – a fight Cas doesn't understand. But apparently, anger wins.

 

“A faggot.“

 

All air disappears from his lungs and he would have lashed into Dean right here and now and kicked the shit out of him, but suddenly two strong hands are clutching his arms.

 

“Castiel, don't!“ Balthazar. “Don't, he's not worth it,” he whispers into Cas' ear. But Castiel's mind is clouded, there's a ringing in his ears, and he barely notices how everyone is staring at them. How loud have they been? He doesn't know. He didn't notice. There was just Dean in front of him, his eyes and his voice. Nothing else.

 

He swears to God. What's _wrong_ with him?

 

Balthazar lets go of him, but he puts himself between Castiel and Dean, who's looking at the floor now.

 

“I think it's best when you two leave now.“

 

Cas and Dean look up and Balthazar turns around. It's Jody.

 

“Sheriff,” Balthazar greets her friendly. She's off duty at the moment, but Cas notices how Dean listens attentively at the word _sheriff_.

 

“Hey, Cas.“ Jody looks at him questioningly. He shakes his head slightly. “Hey, Jody,” he says quietly, not meeting her eyes.

 

“ _Try to stay out of trouble, okay?“_

 

“ _I promise.“_

 

Well, at least no one could say that he hasn't tried... but he doesn't want to see the disappointment in her eyes, even though he isn't really in trouble. Nothing's happened, thanks to Balthazar who held him back.

 

Without looking anyone in the eye, Castiel leaves the bar. He still hears how Jody asks Dean for his name. Then, the cold air is hitting him in the face, but it doesn't really seem to get into his lungs.

 

 _I should have just walked home_ , he thinks, as he tries to breathe normally. He doesn't know for how long he's standing there on the sidewalk before the bar.

 

“Hey,” says a low voice behind him all of a sudden. Cas flinches.

 

Dean.

 

 _No._ Cas closes his eyes. _No, just... no._

 

“Leave me alone,” he says. “You wanted to be left alone. I'm going to leave you alone from now on. Just do the same.“

 

“I just... I just wanted to say that I'm so...“

 

“Don't!“ Cas hisses, turning around to Dean. “Just _shut the fuck up_ and leave me alone, okay?“

 

He wants to walk away, because he can't stand the look on Dean's face and the expression in his eyes anymore. Therefore, he turns away from Dean, but then there's a hand on his shoulder, turning him back around again. That's enough to flip the switch in Castiel's brain. He doesn't even think about it, he just raises his hand, hauls off and punches Dean right in the face.

 

Dean is so surprised, he doesn't even really make a sound. He just gasps a little, as the blood starts to stream out of his nose.

 

“Don't ever fucking touch me again.“

 

Dean looks at him, totally perplexed, but Cas doesn't pay him any attention anymore and just starts to walk away.

 

He tries to walk as fast as possible without starting to run. He doesn't want to run. Maybe it will bring him back home faster, but it will also bring back the memories even faster. So he walks down the main street as quickly as he can, and turns right on the corner, slowing down only a bit. Cas tries to focus on his surroundings. The hard asphalt under his feet, the cold air that nips at his skin, the remaining snow on the streets, and the wind that whistles in his ears. But he can't do anything about the thoughts and the memories that are still flooding his mind – that are literally drowning him.

 

 _Other_ hands on his shoulder that turn him around, much more rougher hands. Two different pairs of hands, both dangerous, grabbing at him, his body, slowly getting hold of his mind – _crushing_ it.

 

 _Other_ voices in his head. _Faggot_. Again, two different voices. So loud. So rude. Either drunk or high or both.

 

_Faggot. I know you want it._

 

_Faggot._

 

When Dean said it, silence followed this word, filled with regret and sadness. But Castiel remembers hateful laughter that followed this word once.

 

_Faggot._

 

He doesn't get this word out of his head. But he doesn't hear it in Dean's voice. The voices in his head are older. Scarier. Coarser. And they bring back more and more memories.

 

The heat that flowed through the town, that occupied the car and the empty apartment over the liquor store. The smell of _their_ breaths, reeking of alcohol. The feeling of needles that pierced into his arms and the feeling of whatever they gave him flowing through his veins.

 

Castiel clasps his left arm with his right hand and tries to push the memories back, but it doesn't work. He tries to tell himself that it's been five years. _Five fucking years_. Why isn't he over it? He _should_ be over it. Why can't he forget?

 

God, he just wants to forget.

 

 

* * *

 

 

It happens so quickly, Dean can't even react. He doesn't even understand it. He just wanted to be able to look Castiel in the face to apologize properly, because he is such a fucking _idiot_. How could he say something _like that?_ He didn't even want to say something like that. Hell, Castiel is right – Dean _is_ an asshole. But that's not an excuse to say something like that.

 

He called Castiel a _faggot_. He has never called someone a faggot before. How could he be so fucking stupid? Out of all the things he could have said, he said _this_. Another reason to fucking hate himself a little bit more.

 

And the face Castiel made – as if he couldn't breathe anymore. Even if Dean had punched him, he couldn't have hurt him more than he did with this one word.

 

Dean remembers what Sam told him – that some guy has called Castiel a faggot and that Castiel broke the guy's nose. He chuckles, thinking that this has to be ironic somehow, since he's walking home with a bloody nose right now. At least, it's not broken. But maybe it should be broken. Either way, it hurts and Dean knows he deserves the pain.

 

_Broken._

 

This word flashes through his mind, when he stands on their front porch and sees that the right back light of the Impala is broken. He swallows. His dad loves this car, not any less than Dean does, and he's always very careful with it – except if he's drunk.

 

With a sense of foreboding, Dean opens the front door. His nose has stopped bleeding, but his lower side of the face is covered with blood and his hands are as well, and his nose also still hurts. But he forgets about it for the time being, when he enters the living room.

 

John sits on the couch, empty beer bottles are laying on the coffee table and the floor, and there is an almost empty bottle of _Jack Daniel's_ in John's hand. Dean's heart drops at the sight. _Terrific_. Can his birthday get any worse?

 

Apparently, the answer to that question is _yes_.

 

“Ah, figured you'd be back sometime.“ John sets eyes on Dean. His words are slurred. Dean is just able to stare back at his father for a few moments. Not even two weeks. They're here in the new house, in the new town, for not even two weeks, and John already fell off the wagon once again.

 

“Dad,” Dean starts, quietly. He has the feeling he's been loud enough today. He can't stand any loud words right now. “Dad. Why?“

 

“Oh, you mean this?“ John holds up the bottle, an idly grin on his lips that reminds Dean of Alastair somehow. He feels sick, but he licks his lips and just nods.

 

“You're to blame for this,” John mutters, taking a sip and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Dean swallows and opens his mouth, but no words come out. He shakes his head, feeling the dried blood on his skin and lips.

 

“Whatever happened to your face, you deserve it,” John says, squinting at him. “Who did this? I kinda want to thank 'em for it.“

 

 _He's just drunk_ , says a tiny voice in the back of his mind, but Dean knows that this has nothing to do with the fact that John Winchester is drunk.

 

“Why?“ he asks again, but this time he means something else. He almost doesn't dare to ask, but he just has to. If he doesn't ask, this question will be in his head and bother him at least for the rest of the night.

 

“Why do you hate me so much?“

 

John looks at him, tilting his head a bit. “Because she died to save you,” he whispers.

 

Dean already anticipated this answer, but actually hearing it tugs at the strings of his heart more than he has expected it to. He sighs and nods, leaving John alone in the living room. He goes upstairs slowly.

 

He knocks on Sam's bedroom door. “It's me,” he mutters and Sam unlocks the door. “Dad is drunk,” he says, tears in his eyes. “Where were you?“

 

“Doesn't matter. I'm back.“ Dean tries to smile, but he fails.

 

“What happened?“ Sam asks, looking up at him and eyeing the blood on his face.

 

“Doesn't matter,” Dean says shakily. He nods towards his bedroom and Sam follows him, already wearing his pyjama. Dean doesn't even want to imagine how scared Sam must have been, with John coming home drunk and Dean not being there.

 

He assumes John left the house shortly after he did and found another bar, or just a liquor store.

 

Sam climbs into Dean's bed, looking at him questioningly, though he doesn't ask any questions. Dean goes into the bathroom. He wants to brush his teeth and to change into his pyjama and to wash off the blood, but he just stares at his reflection in the mirror for a long time.

 

He briefly wonders for how long John will keep his job, now that he started to drink again, but then he looks at the blue tiles in the shower. Blue. _Fucking blue_.

 

Castiel.

 

What has he done? He made this gorgeous boy angry and told him to leave him alone. Once again, he was the reason why the bluest ocean turned to ice in a matter of seconds. And he called him a faggot. Dean won't forget the expression in Castiel's eyes when he said this – the vulnerability and the pain. And this isn't even the worst.

 

The worst was what happened after Castiel punched Dean, when they looked at each other for maybe a second.

 

The frozen ocean – it just shattered, right in front of him, into a million pieces.

 

And it's Dean's fault.

 

Later, when he lies in bed next to Sam (in his bedroom, with the door locked), who fell asleep after some time, he still can't get the agony in Castiel's eyes out of his head. And his words.

 

_Don't ever fucking touch me again._

 

What happened? What is the reason for Castiel's reaction?

 

As he lies there in the dark, staring at the ceiling, he makes a decision he will probably regret. He wants to know the reason why. And he wants _to make up for what he did_. Because no matter how terrible he's feeling right now, Castiel is feeling even worse.

 

He can't change the situation with John. John won't ever forgive him. Dean won't ever forgive himself. But maybe he can change the situation with Castiel.

 

The thought that he wants to be the new bad boy starts to nag at him, but he brushes it off. The decision has been made. And they won't stay that long in this town anyway, so maybe it doesn't even matter if he gets his bad boy reputation here, or not. But if they didn't have a lot of time left here, he should hurry up with making things right. He don't think he'll be able to leave, if he didn't make things right.

 

Dean is glad when midnight comes and goes. Finally, the worst birthday ever is over.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry that you had to wait so long for a new chapter AGAIN. But there were days where I didn't write at all and it was really frustrating, because it was all in my head and I couldn't write it down. Yesterday and today, I was finally able to write again and finished this chapter. I hope you like it. I'm looking forward to your comments :) also, it's a longer chapter again, so yay.
> 
> Also, HAPPY PRIDE MONTH! I know it's late, but still <3
> 
> ~KC

Cas doesn't even know how, but he makes it home. The last few meters to the front door seem to be insuperable, but then he's finally inside and closes the door behind him. His head feels too heavy for his neck right now and he thinks it might explode, if he's not able to calm down quickly.

 

But Castiel has tried the whole way home to calm down and nothing worked. He's drowning. He's fucking drowning; the memories are suffocating him and they won't stop coming. More and more memories fill his mind until there is no space for anything else. It's like there are bricks in his head, neatly piled up, and there's not even air between them. And he can't break them apart, no matter how hard he strikes at them.

 

He needs to lie down. He needs to sleep and to calm down. God, he needs to stop _thinking_.

 

But just as he steps on the first step to go upstairs and into his room, Lucifer comes into the hallway, smiling at him. “Hey.“

 

Cas swallows. “Hey.“

 

He sees how Lucifer wrinkles his forehead and he wonders if his voice sounds a lot differently than usual and also what he looks like. He feels like being very close to a panic attack and breaking down (an all too familiar feeling), and he hopes he doesn't look like it. Cas doesn't want Lucifer to worry about him even more. He has to deal with this _alone_. He can't bother his brother with something like this again and again.

 

“Everything's okay?“ Lucifer asks, leaning against the white stair-rail. Cas nods. “Yeah, I'm fine.“

 

_I'm perfectly fine._

 

Lucifer looks at him questioningly, squinting a bit, but there's something he wants to tell so he doesn't ask again. “Dad is gone.“

 

Cas looks at him for a few seconds. “Yeah?“

 

“Yeah. He packed his things, said goodbye and drove away. I don't know when he'll be back.“

 

Cas nods again. Bartholomew isn't here anymore. That's a good thing, right? The last couple of days, he tried to avoid his father as best he could, but there were still several encounters. They met in the kitchen or the living room and glared at each other. On the one hand, Cas is really glad that Bartholomew isn't there anymore, but on the other hand, he couldn't care less – especially because the thought that he also tried to avoid Dean at school squashes into his head and between all the bricks. Of course his mind is able to make up space for _this_ thought. He didn't want to see Dean as well. _And still, you followed him into the bar_ , says a muffled voice in the back of his head. This is just splendid.

 

Now that Lucifer said what he wanted to say, he eyes his little brother, concerned again. “Are you sure that everything's okay?“

 

“Yes, I'm sure.“ Cas tries to smile, but he has the feeling that he's not really convincing. “I'm just tired,” he says, even though he knows that Lucifer knows this excuse very well. “I think I'm going to bed early today.“

 

“Okay,” Lucifer says hesitantly, but he lets him go for now.

 

Castiel goes into his room, locking the door behind him and leaning against it. _I'm perfectly fine._ He scoffs. And then the tears start to come.

 

Fuck fuck fuck.

 

_Fuck._

 

He presses his knuckles to his eyes, but his whole body trembles and painful sobs claw at the back of his throat. He swallows hard, pressing one hand on his mouth. But everything feels wrong and really messed up right now. With shaking hands he removes his clothes until he's only in his boxers.

 

Still crying, he climbs into bed and buries himself under his blankets. “I'm fine. It's okay. _I'm_ okay“, he whispers into his pillow, knowing that nothing is okay, knowing that _he_ is definitely not okay.

 

And the memories are still flooding his mind. They're written all over the bricks, and Cas can only try to keep breathing.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Dean has a plan when he enters the school building the next day. He wants to talk to Castiel and to apologize sincerely. Castiel just _has_ to listen to him, no more than five minutes. Dean wants him to understand that he deeply regrets calling him a faggot and he wants him to know that he knows himself that he's an asshole and also an idiot.

 

Dean wants to fix the blue. He can't get out of his head how the frozen ocean just shattered, right there in front of him – _because_ of him. He doesn't get over the pain in Castiel's eyes and he wonders why it is there in the first place. _Who_ did that to this gorgeous boy? What happened to him? Why did he react the way he did? Dean wants to know and he wants to fucking _fix_ it.

 

In the first break he wanders through the hallways, looking for messy black hair, but he doesn't see it anywhere. In the second break he goes outside and Castiel's friends are sitting on the stone blocks, talking and laughing together, but Castiel isn't there. Dean frowns and bites his lip. Maybe Castiel just went to the bathroom?

 

Dean hides behind a tree and smokes a cigarette, waiting a few minutes, but still, Castiel doesn't come. He goes back inside, because it's fucking cold. He suspects that Castiel is avoiding him on purpose, but he also hopes that he'll be in the cafeteria during lunch break. But no – Castiel still doesn't appear. And Dean is just waiting for those blue eyes, that he'll look up and see blue, though he doesn't want to admit that.

 

With the thought that he'll see Castiel in his English class, he smokes another cigarette outside. He constantly has to push the nervousness out of his mind, telling himself that there's no reason to be nervous. He's just going to apologize to Castiel after this lesson, and that's it. In anticipation of finally seeing those blue eyes, he enters the classroom and lets his own eyes wander over the other students, but his heart dives. The blue-eyed boy isn't there.

 

Lost in thought, Dean sits down at his place and gets his book and notebook out of his backpack. He looks around again, but there's no doubt, Castiel isn't here. Dean bites his lip, wondering if Castiel skipped class because of him. He isn't sure how to feel about that. But he also doesn't know for sure if this is even true. He needs to know for sure.

 

Impatiently, he waits for the lesson to be over and leaves the classroom as soon as the bell rings. Either Cas just skipped class because of him, or he isn't there at all. Dean needs to know, hence he has to ask someone.

 

Just when this thought starts to form in his head, he spots Kevin at the end of the hallway. He actually doesn't want to do this, but he thinks _so_ _what_. As he keeps walking, he's shaking his head at himself. But then he already stands in front of Kevin, so he might as well just ask him.

 

Kevin looks surprised when Dean says _hey_ to him. “What do you want?“ he asks warily.

 

“Just wanted to know if you have seen Castiel today?“ Dean shrugs his shoulders, as if it wasn't really important to him.

 

Kevin looks at him questioningly, scratching his neck. Then, he shrugs his shoulders, too. “Cas is sick.“

 

“He's sick?“ Dean repeats a little wonderingly.

 

“Yeah, his brother called the school and Cas texted us. He's sick, laying in bed all day, apparently.“

 

“Are you sure?“ Dean feels weird asking that, but he's so confused that he doesn't care about that.

 

“Why would Cas lie to us?“ Kevin asks, but he doesn't wait for Dean to answer and just shakes his head and goes away. Dean doesn't care about that as well and turns around, slowly walking out of the school.

 

He doesn't know what to think of this. Is Castiel actually _sick_? How long has he been outside last night, wandering around, before going home and to sleep, and waking up sick? Or did he just tell his friends that he's sick, so they don't ask any further questions?

 

_Why would Cas lie to us?_

 

Maybe because there's something they don't know, Dean thinks, remembering Castiel's reactions and the pain in his eyes.

 

Dean also doesn't know what to think of Castiel pretending to be sick to avoid seeing him today. Guilt puts itself onto his skin and it's not a pleasant feeling. It's a heavy layer and he can't just take it off, even though he wants to throw it in the nearest dumpster and forget about it.

 

Sam already waits for him outside and they walk home in silence.

 

The weekend passes and Dean ignores Sam's questioning glances. He smiles and helps him with his homework, and tells him he doesn't need to worry, whenever Sam asks him what's wrong. Of course Sam notices that something's off. His little brother just knows him too well.

 

And of course Dean notices that Sam is still worrying about him, but there is also something else that's occupying his mind most of the time, so at some point Sam stops asking Dean what's wrong. He knows that Dean won't tell him anyway.

 

Dean doesn't want his little brother to worry at all, but how could he not worry, when their father disappears for a few hours and comes back home dead drunk? And Dean can't pretend he doesn't worry about John, or more about what he could do in this condition.

 

Though the thing is, John doesn't do _anything_. He doesn't talk to them at all and when he's home, he shuts himself away in his room. Neither Dean nor Sam try to approach him, because they know that it would be no use.

 

Dean thinks a lot about Castiel. Of course, just because he needs to find a proper way to apologize to him. He tells himself that there's _no other reason_.

 

Monday comes and Dean wakes up, feeling nervous and also stupid for feeling nervous. He's just going to apologize properly to Castiel and that's it, he reminds himself again. There's absolutely no reason to be nervous.

 

On their way to school, Dean wonders if Castiel will be there. He can't pretend to be sick forever, right? At some point he has to come back to school. Dean bites his lip, thinking how Castiel didn't come to school at all, _because of him_.

 

The first lesson doesn't go by as fast as Dean wants it to, but then the bell rings and he grabs his backpack, leaving the room. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees that Gabriel is looking at him, but he ignores it. He still doesn't want to talk to the guy who's wearing hawaiian t-shirts at the end of January.

 

Dean doesn't know where to look for Castiel, but he decides to start outside. Maybe he's sitting with his friends on the stone blocks – if he's there.

 

The cold wind is hitting him in the face as soon as Dean steps out of the door. God, he _really_ can't wait for summer.

 

A group of people _is_ sitting on the stone blocks. Dean sees Charlie, Meg, Garth, Gadreel and (to his relief) Castiel. The wind tousles his already messy dark hair, he's wearing a trenchcoat and he takes a pull on a cigarette. Dean isn't able to avoid noticing that it looks _kinda_ hot.

 

He shakes his head, pushing this thought to the back of his mind and telling himself that it is about _something else_ right now. The apology. He wants to apologize for what happened on Thursday. He can't think about how hot Castiel looks right now – or always looks. _Dammit, Winchester. You have to concentrate._

 

But Dean also doesn't want to talk to Castiel in front of his friends. It's probably best, if he'll just wait and then catch Castiel alone, he decides. Yeah, that's a good plan. A very good plan. It's just that Castiel doesn't seem to go along with it. He's spotted Dean.

 

For a moment, their eyes meet and a small smile tugs at the corners of Dean's mouth, but then Castiel looks away, nudging Meg with his elbow and getting up. Dean's smile falters and he watches Castiel and Meg disappearing around the corner of the building, giving him a wide berth. Dean frowns. He has no option but to enter the school again, since Castiel's friends are getting up as well now and he doesn't want them to see him, too.

 

Castiel and Meg probably entered the school through the main entrance again, because Dean sees them in one of the hallways. But he can't go over to them, because he's already late for his last class and there are too many people around them. Besides, Castiel takes Meg's hand and pulls her into the other direction – _away_ from Dean.

 

During the next days, this happens again and again and again. Whenever Castiel sees Dean, he turns around and walks away as fast as he can. Dean can't blame him though, but he gets more and more angry. He's not angry at Castiel, no – he's angry at _himself_. Because, although he can see Castiel's face always just for a few seconds, he's able to see the sadness that's still lingering in his features and in his blue eyes.

 

Dean has no idea how he is supposed to apologize to Castiel, if Castiel doesn't want him to apologize. There are times when he wonders _why_ he even wants to apologize. Is he just doing it for himself, to make himself feel better and to convince himself that he's not such a failure? Or is he actually doing it, because _it's the right thing to do_ , because he wants Castiel to feel better and maybe even convince Castiel that he isn't such an asshole? Sometimes it's the first thought he believes, sometimes it's the second, but there are also moments when he believes it's a mixture of both thoughts. And there are also moments when he doesn't even know what to think, what to believe.

 

All he knows for sure is that Castiel is trying his best to avoid him. Dean wonders for how long it will be like this. He doesn't want to admit an awful lot of things – not even to himself – and one of those things is that he doesn't like to see Castiel turn around as soon as he sees him. But he can't change that and he doesn't want to go after Castiel, not when Castiel is trying so hard not to be in the same room with him. Dean would feel stupid if he did that.

 

But every Tuesday and Friday, they have English together. Castiel has a seat in the front row, whereas Dean is sitting in the back of the class, so he has the whole lesson to stare at Castiel absentmindedly. Though, every time he finds himself staring at Castiel's back or even just at his dark hair, he shakes his head and tries to concentrate on something else, like the learning material but it's always evanescent. His thoughts and his eyes always wander back to Castiel, if he wants to or not.

 

On Friday, he's glad when he leaves the school and walks home together with Sam. He doesn't want to think about Castiel anymore. Maybe he gets an opportunity to apologize next week, and then he'll be finally able to put all these thoughts out of his mind and to start working on getting his usual reputation. He starts to wonder if he even should apologize to Castiel at all, or if he should just let it alone. But he ignores these thoughts, whenever they come to his mind, because he can't help it. He just _needs_ to apologize.

 

For the weekend, he wants to spend some time with Sam, maybe call Bobby and get drunk, a little bit at least. Of course, it doesn't go as planned. Why did he even _expect_ it to go as planned? He shouldn't be surprised anymore that almost every week something bad is happening. Maybe he will get used to it eventually – or maybe he is already used to it. Either way, it hurts and it tires him even more.

 

It's Saturday and since John left the house early – even though he came back home late last night – and since they don't have anything in the fridge anymore, Dean decides to go grocery shopping. He asked Sam if he wanted to go with him, but Sam mumbled something about math homework, so Dean left and went to the supermarket alone.

 

Sam is in a very bad mood again, because their father drinks again. Most of the time, John is either drunk or half drunk, and in a very bad mood as well. Dean really wonders for how long he's going to keep his job this time. And what's going to happen if he gets fired again. For how long are they going to stay here?

 

Since they don't have a lot of money (a lot of alcohol is expensive – _apparently_ ), Dean only buys essentials, ergo the grocery shopping doesn't take a lot of time. He couldn't been away for longer than 40 minutes – he had to walk, because John took the Impala. But still, when he comes home, it's too late.

 

He doesn't need to see the Impala in their driveway to know that John is home. He can already hear John's voice on the street. He pauses, his grip on the shopping bag tightens and he hopes, although he knows better, that the loud voice doesn't come from their house. But of course, he recognizes his father's voice immediately; he knows _exactly_ what it sounds like when he's drunk and yelling at them.

 

He enters the house quickly and rather carelessly puts the bag on the floor in the hallway. With a bad feeling deep down in the pit of his stomach, he enters the living room. John is there, standing in the middle of the room – he's yelling and gesticulating frantically, and he's clearly drunk. And there's Sam, making himself as small as possible, not looking John in the eye – and he's crying silently. The armchair stands between them, but it isn't able to protect Sam from John's fury and his harsh words.

 

Dean doesn't know what this is about, he doesn't know what Sam has done or hasn't done, and why John is so angry. But he knows that he has to protect his little brother.

 

When he steps into the room, Sam looks at him. His eyes are red and puffy, and there are still tears streaming down his cheeks and dropping onto his shirt. He's biting his lip and John just keeps yelling at him, without even realizing that his other son is there.

 

“Dad?“ Dean asks carefully, stepping closer. Sam shakes his head, but Dean ignores him. Maybe he is able to calm John down, or at least to distract him from Sam. He takes another step closer. “Dad?“ he tries again, louder this time.

 

He doesn't know if John doesn't him, or if he's simply ignoring him. But either way, he just keeps yelling. Dean doesn't know what else he is supposed to do, so he reaches for John's arm to get his attention. But that is a big mistake. At the touch, John spins around immediately. He's so fast, Dean can't even react – just like when Castiel hit him. But John's fist hits his jugal bone, below and beside his left eye.

 

Dean's head jerks to the side and he presses a hand to his face, taken by surprise. John glares at him before he walks past him. Dean and Sam stare at each other, neither of them able to comprehend what has just happened. Then, John's bedroom door slams shut and they both flinch.

 

Sam walks over to him, taking his hand that's still pressed to his face, so he can examine his face. Dean can practically _feel_ a black eye forming, but he doesn't care about that, not when Sam doesn't stop crying. He kneels down, looking Sam in the eye. “What happened, Sammy?“

 

“I'm so-sorry,” Sam sobs, wiping his face.

 

“What happened?“ Dean asks again. Sam looks bashfully at the ground and tells him what happened in a low voice. He's still sobbing.

 

Sam called Bobby, because he didn't want to be here any longer. He asked him if he could come to get them and in this moment John came back home. He must heard what Sam told Bobby on the phone and got really angry, prying the receiver out of Sam's hand and holding it to his own ear. He glared at Sam, while yelling into the phone that Bobby shouldn't _dare_ to actually show up here. Then, he just hung up and since that moment he was yelling at him.

 

When Sam finishes, Dean closes his eyes for a second. Sam is still crying and rubbing his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. “I'm s-sorry. I ju-just was s-so ang-angry and s-s-sad.“

 

“Shh, Sammy, it's okay,” Dean whispers, pulling his little brother into a hug.

 

“But yo-your eye...,” Sam starts, but Dean just shakes his head. “It's okay. It's nothing.“

 

But remorse is shining brightly in Sam's eyes, when he pulls away from Dean. “I just wanted to get away from him,” he whispers, and then the tears stop. He looks so _tired_. He shouldn't be this tired, Dean thinks. He just wants Sam to be a _happy_ kid.

 

He sighs. “Come on, go to your room. Do you have any homework?“ Sam nods, wiping his face again.

 

“Okay, I'll be right there.“

 

Sam walks past him, still sniffling a bit. Dean runs his fingers through his hair and watches Sam going upstairs. He stands still for a few seconds after he heard how Sam closed the door behind him, but there are no noises coming from John's bedroom. Their father is probably asleep now.

 

Dean grabs the phone that's laying on the couch; maybe John threw it there after he has yelled at Bobby and just hung up.

 

Bobby. Dean dials the familiar number and presses the phone to his ear, walking around.

 

“What?“

 

“Hey Bobby, it's me,” Dean answers.

 

“Dean! Is everything okay?“

 

“Well, depends on how you define _okay_ , I think.“

  
“Sam told me to come and get you.“

 

“Yeah, I know. He's told me.“

 

“John is drinking again.“

 

“Yeah,” Dean says.

 

“Why didn't you tell me?“ Bobby doesn't yell at him, but he's talking louder than usual and his frustration is clearly noticeable.

 

“I didn't want to bother you,” Dean mutters.

 

“I _want_ to be bothered, Dean. I'll start driving in a few minutes.“

 

“What?!“

 

“I'm coming to get you, just like Sam wanted me to. Don't tell me that you don't want that.“

 

“Bobby, I don't think this would be a good idea,” Dean says exhaustedly.

 

“Do you want to stay there?“

 

“Doesn't matter. We can't just... okay, listen. Right now, everything is cleared. You don't have to come.“

 

“Are you sure, Dean?“

 

“Yeah, I am sure. We just need...“

 

“...some time?“ Bobby asks, voice oozing with doubt. Dean huffs a small breath. “Maybe”, he says quietly, furrowing his brow.

 

“Okay. I'm not getting into the car like I wanted to. But you gotta promise me something, boy,” Bobby grumbles, sounding really serious.

 

“What?“ Dean asks, swallowing nervously.

 

“You're going to call me when something happens again. No matter what. _You understand?_ “

 

“Yes, Bobby. I understand,” Dean says. “I promise I'll call you.“

 

“Good. Now, take care of Sam.“

 

“I will.“

 

And then the phone call is over. Dean puts the phone away, slowly going upstairs. He's trying not to think about that he only promised Bobby to call when something happens to soothe Bobby. John isn't Bobby's problem. Bobby had enough trouble with John.

 

Dean knocks on Sam's door. “Come in.“

 

He opens the door and sees Sam sitting on his desk chair, writing something onto a page of his notepad. Homework. Dean has also homework – English and History. But he has no motivation to do something right now, so he just lies down on Sam's bed, staring at the ceiling and starting to bite his lip. His face still hurts, but he doesn't care.

 

On Monday, the black eye is still visible, but Dean ignores the stares he gets from the other students. He doesn't care. He's focused on apologizing to Castiel again, but he hasn't seen the blue-eyed boy today. _Yet._ He assumes Castiel is still trying to avoid him and he still can't blame him for that.

 

But in the lunch break, he's finally lucky. Or maybe it's just coincidence. Who knows? Dean doesn't care about this as well, though. He's just glad that he's finally alone with Castiel.

 

He went to the bathroom and entered it, lost in thought, letting the door shut. When he looks up, there's Castiel, washing his hands and returning Dean's look. Dean notices that Castiel eyes his black eye, looking at him quizzically.

 

Dean shrugs his shoulders. “It's nothing,” he says, pointing at his face. “I've looked worse.“

 

He doesn't know what to expect. But he definitely didn't expect Castiel to chuckle. “Somehow, I have absolutely no problem believing you that.“

 

Now, Dean is looking questioningly at Castiel, who huffs a small breath and throws away the paper towel he was holding in his hands. He walks past Dean slowly, leaving the bathroom. Without thinking about it, Dean follows him.

 

Of course, he notices that Castiel is behaving differently right now. He's completely calm. And more important, he doesn't run away from him and he doesn't try to avoid him. He is looking him in the eye. He lets Dean even walk beside him.

 

“So, uh, I wanted...,” Dean starts awkwardly, being taken aback a bit. “I mean, I'm, um, I'm really sorry, you know...“

 

He's afraid his apology won't sound like he actually means it with all the stammering, but Castiel stops him with a wave of his hand. Dean stops talking immediately, feeling _awkward as fuck_.

 

“It's okay,” Castiel says quietly. Dean looks at him, not knowing what to say. They stopped walking in the middle of a hallway. Castiel returns his look, a small smile touching the corners of his mouth. “It's okay,” he repeats softly.

 

Dean is still feeling awkward, but he can't help but to smile back. He opens his mouth, because he has to say _something_. It seems like Castiel is even waiting for him to say something. But before he can think of something good to say, someone is calling his name.

 

Both, he and Castiel look up to see a girl walking towards them. She has red hair, just like Charlie, but hers is longer, going down almost to her waist. Her blue jeans flatter her long legs pleasantly and she's wearing a simple white blouse. She is more than just pretty, but Dean wonders what she wants from him. He can't even remember seeing her before somewhere.

 

“That's Anna, Anna Milton. She's in my French course,” Castiel tells him, stepping back a bit when Anna stops in front of Dean, a huge smile on her face.

 

“Hello!” she says.

 

“Hi,” Dean answers, looking at her curiously. What could she want from him?

 

“I'm Anna. Anna Milton.“

 

“I'm Dean Winchester.“

 

“I know,” she says with a sly smile.

 

“You know?“ Dean raises his eyebrows. “Well, what can I do for you?“

 

She smiles at him, stepping a bit closer. “It's early in February,” she tells him, “and in about two weeks, there's this party. I wondered, if you wanted to come.“

 

“A party?“ Dean asks. “Where?“

 

“At my house. My parents are out of town.“

 

In about two weeks, Dean thinks. _Oh no..._ “On _Valentine's Day_?“

 

“Yeah, exactly.“ Now, Anna is grinning up at him, tilting her head a little bit and playing with a red strand of her hair with her fingers. She's obviously flirting.

 

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean sees how Castiel demonstratively doesn't look at them, but Dean's sure he does listen to what they are saying. And Dean can see the expression on Castiel's face.

 

He looks at Anna again, who's waiting for his answer. “I'm sorry,” he says, shaking his head. “Not interested.“ _Not in the party, not in you._ But he doesn't say this out loud, because he doesn't need to. Anna understands it right away. Her grin disappears and she stops being flirtatious, only to start sulking.

 

Throwing her hair back, she turns around and walks away, keeping her head held high and not regarding him with an answer. Dean scoffs and turns around as well, facing Castiel again who's still standing there. He waited for him. Dean smiles. Castiel tilts his head slightly, when Dean suddenly starts to grin.

 

Because Dean doesn't feel awkward anymore. He can't really explain it – maybe it's the expression on Castiel's face, when Anna flirted with him. In any case, it makes him saying his next words out loud, and not holding them back. He wants to see Castiel's reaction.

 

He smirks at Castiel, who raises his eyebrows at him now, silently asking what's going on.

 

“Jealousy looks good on you.“

 

Castiel reacts variously, much to the joy of Dean. The first moment, his cheeks flush and he looks at Dean surprised. Then, he straightens himself, jutting his chin forward and glaring at him.

 

“ _Jealousy?_ Oh, please,” he scoffs before he walks past Dean quickly.

 

Dean doesn't care about Castiel just ditching him. A chuckle escapes his lips, as he watches how the blue-eyed boy disappears around the corner at the end of the hallway.

 

Slowly, he heads to the classroom and to his last lesson for today, feeling as relaxed and as good as he hasn't for days.

 

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

One week has passed since Dean tried to apologize to him.

 

It's shortly after 5 am and Castiel should be asleep, but he just woke up after having another nightmare. Cas is used to that by now, but he hates it nevertheless.

 

He's sitting in bed, the blanket lays loosely over his crossed legs and he leans against his pillows, staring absentmindedly at the ceiling and wishing he could sleep without having any nightmares.

 

He's feeling 'okay' again – as far as one can say that. He doesn't have another word for how he's feeling. He's not happy, not even content, but it's also not as bad as it already has been before. It's still gray around and also inside him, but there's no rain right now at least.

 

Of course, he's having nightmares again, but apart from that he's okay. Or maybe, he's still having nightmares. Again. Still. He can't tell the difference anymore. How much time has to pass for it to be _again_ instead of _still_?

 

And why can't his mind just shut up for two minutes? He doesn't want to think about anything or ask any questions at all. He just wants to sleep. If he fell asleep right now, he still could sleep for one hour and 43 minutes. That'd be nice.

 

But he doesn't fall back asleep and his thoughts wander and wander, until they're back to a certain boy. Cas sighs. He really doesn't want to think about Dean, but when has he ever been able to stop his mind from forming thoughts, ideas, questions or pictures?

 

Dean.

 

Castiel remembers how they met in the boy's bathroom. Dean had a black eye and Cas wondered what has happened. Apparently, the question was written on his face, because Dean started to talk. But he didn't want Dean to apologize.

 

He wonders if Dean knows that, but basically all his emotions are almost always _visible_. In the expression on his face, in the expression in his eyes, and in the movements of his hands. His entire body language is so easy to read. And Castiel has seen the regret, right the moment after Dean had called him a faggot.

 

Sure, the word brought back a lot of memories, but _anyone_ could have said it. It just happened to be Dean, and he didn't even want to say it. Castiel knows how anger issues work. Dean couldn't really control it, although he hesitated to say it. But the anger pushed the word over his lips and it was so clear that he wanted to take it back immediately.

 

Cas isn't mad at Dean. He never was. He just wasn't able to control how he reacted to this word. And then Dean touched him and that triggered him even more. It was a whole series of untoward events, and Castiel just needed some time to sort everything out. That's the reason why he avoided Dean at school, why he turned around as soon as he saw him and why he pretended to be sick on the Friday after it's happened.

 

He didn't want to see Dean right away again, just so that everything could surface again.

 

But now, it's okay. He's not angry at Dean. And Cas even regrets hitting the green-eyed boy. Besides, Dean _wanted_ to apologize, and Castiel thinks that says a lot about him, although he doesn't want to think about it. Or about Dean. But he can't help it.

 

_Jealousy looks good on you._

 

Castiel huffs a small breath, shaking his head. Why did Anna have to come up to Dean just then? He shouldn't care about it, though. He shouldn't care about Anna flirting with Dean and inviting him to a party. It simply shouldn't matter to him.

 

Unfortunately, it _does_ – in one way or another. He doesn't really know. But apparently, Dean was able to see that.

 

He doesn't want to admit it, not even to himself, but he knows that he didn't like it when Anna was flirting with Dean. So, maybe he was indeed jealous. But he has the feeling that _jealous_ is the wrong word for it. He simply didn't like seeing her flirting with him. If he were jealous, that would mean that he _likes_ Dean. And that's not true. Right?

 

Okay, yes. Dean is beautiful to look at. He has beautiful eyes and – at this point, Cas really should already stop. He runs his fingers through his hair. It also doesn't matter that Dean is beautiful. It _shouldn't_ matter. But it does and Castiel is so confused. He doesn't want to think like this, so why isn't he able to _stop_?

 

He should think about other things. Like, Bartholomew isn't here anymore and Lucifer's and his routine is back. They also haven't heard anything from their father and they're more than just glad about that. It means Castiel is able to feel comfortable at home again. It means there are no fights, there is no shouting and no glaring. Lucifer knows how much all of that always drains Castiel on strength.

 

Cas just wants to concentrate on his schoolwork now. On the one hand, it's going well; on the other hand, not so much. At the moment, he has good grades, but he still just can't completely focus on school and learning. Dean is still always there – in the hallways, in the cafeteria, in the classroom, or just in the back of his mind.

 

He's getting used to looking up and seeing green, and he can't do anything about it.

 

It's weird, though. Whenever he looks at Dean, Dean either starts to look back or he's already staring at him. And they're always maintaining eye contact for a few seconds, until someone looks away again. They also don't talk with each other. They haven't talked with each other since Dean noticed Cas was _jealous_ (or whatever) because of Anna, and Cas just ditched him. But the atmosphere between them is not bad, if anything. And if only Cas knew what that means.

 

Because they aren't talking to each other, but sometimes he's catching Dean staring at him, or Dean catches him staring at him. Sometimes they even _smile_ when this happens, but they always look away again. And Dean gets in a few fights with other students. It's more shouting and bumping into each other than anything else, but it seems like Dean is finally starting to concentrate on getting the bad boy reputation that he wants to have.

 

And Cas wonders _why_ Dean even apologized, why he bothered to apologize at all. He just could have let it go and try to get a bad boy reputation right away. He didn't have to apologize. So, why did he _want_ to apologize?

 

This isn't the only thing Castiel is thinking about. He's mostly thinking about Dean and he has a lot of questions in his head. Another one is why Dean didn't respond to Anna's flirting. Cas hates this question, but it has gotten its teeth into his brain and he just can't pull it out. He shouldn't care about that either. Right? And still... he wants to know why Dean didn't flirt back. Anna is a beautiful girl, usually not a girl a guy like Dean would just reject like this.

 

It's not like Castiel isn't secretly glad that Dean didn't flirt with Anna. It's just that he can't wrap his mind around a reason why Dean didn't flirt with her _at all_.

 

And then Dean said this. _Jealousy looks good on you._ Why did he say that? Why did he grin at Castiel like _that_ , when he said it to him? Why did he even say it at all? Castiel doesn't understand it. And Dean looked like he felt good about himself after he said it.

 

But what Castiel hates the most at the moment is the fucking fact that Dean was _cute_ , when he tried to apologize. He started to stutter and he fucking blushed and he couldn't even form one coherent sentence. He was so flustered and it was fucking cute and Castiel fucking hates it.

 

To top it all, Gabriel is insisting on going to that damn party Anna is throwing this week, of all things _on Valentine's Day._

 

Cas already wondered if the party is actually going to take place, or if Anna just told Dean that there'll be a party to get him to come over to her house. But Anna throws a lot of parties; her parents are the richest people around here and they have a nice big property. Castiel has been to a few parties there already, but he didn't go in the beginning when they've just moved here. Because Anna had flirted with him as well, just like she did with Dean; she had invited him to a party as well and he had rejected her as well. It's nothing personal, but Anna has the tendency to be spiky very quickly, when something isn't the way she wants it to be.

 

He had tried explaining to her that he isn't interested, because _she's a girl_ and _he is gay_. It's really not that hard to understand, but of course she had been offended. Now, they only talk to each other from time to time, and also only about schoolwork and sometimes he goes to her parties, but that's it.

 

This time, he doesn't want to go to Anna's party. But apparently most people will go, and many of his friends will as well and they want him to come with them. Cas tries to resort in excuses. The party will take place on a Thursday and the next day they'll have school normally. He thinks that that's a good point, but Meg thinks otherwise.

 

“When has school ever stopped you from going to a party?“ she asks, raising her eyebrows at him, and with that his point is invalid, since Cas isn't able to offer something in reply to that.

 

He also tells them that they aren't even invited, but they never really are invited and nobody cares about this anyway. They still always just went and Anna never complained about it. Actually, most people aren't invited and everyone, who wants to go and hears about the party, just goes. That's the way it works.

 

So, they go to the party this time as well. Eventually, his friends have talked Cas into it.

 

On Thursday, Castiel ignores most couples in school (fucking Valentine's Day) and around 8 pm, Meg, Crowley, Charlie and her girlfriend Dorothy are standing before his door. Yesterday, Castiel's last hope waned. He thought maybe Lucifer will tell him that he can't go, because the party takes place midweek. But no, the fucker honestly _offered to drive them to the house of the Milton's_.

 

And now, his brother is talking to the others while Castiel takes one last look in the mirror. He still doesn't really want to go, so that's the reason why he took small pains to choose his clothes tonight. He's just wearing army jeans, black sneakers and a grey sweater. Something simple.

 

When he comes downstairs, Charlie is in the middle of introducing Dorothy – her girlfriend. And Castiel has to acknowledge that the others are also just casually dressed.

 

“Charlie, everyone knows Dorothy by now,” Meg says and Charlie pouts. “Lucifer hasn't met her yet. Besides, we're _officially_ together now.“

 

Meg rolls her eyes and Crowley and Castiel chuckle. He sees how Dorothy is smiling, a faint blush is covering her cheeks.

 

“You ready?“ Lucifer asks and he nods. They all get in the car; Lucifer sits in the driver seat, Cas is riding shotgun and Crowley, Meg, Charlie and Dorothy are squished in the backseat, whereas Dorothy and Charlie are sharing a seat.

 

The Milton's live on the outskirts of town; it's the top part of the area. Well, actually their house is about in the middle between this town and the next, but that's what people are saying. They drive a little more than half an hour and then Lucifer drives through the gate onto the property of the Milton's. The driveway is a broad gravel path that ends as a small roundabout in front of the steps before the entrance. The roundabout is only there, because there's a marble fountain in front of the house. Castiel likes this fountain very much, because it isn't exorbitant.

 

They get out of the car and Lucifer tells them they should call him, when they want him to pick them up again. Charlie takes Dorothy's hand and they enter the house. Castiel is the last one, since he looked after Lucifer's car, a little bit wistfully.

 

The party is already in full swing. There are a lot of people, far more than there were cars in front of the house in the meadow. Cas screws up his nose. Charlie and Dorothy disappear into the crowd, already starting to dance. The music is loud; some pop song is playing. Castiel won't see Charlie and Dorothy very often this night.

 

Crowley and Meg want a drink, so they dive into the crowd as well. There are a few tables in different rooms with alcohol and snacks. The people around them are already partying, drunk and in high spirits. Soon, the others belong to them.

 

Gabriel, Ash, Garth and Gadreel find them relatively fast. Gabriel's cousin drove them. They're already well supplied, to go by the drinks in their hands. Gabriel disappears right away again, following some girl back into the crowd. Gadreel also finds a girl to dance with and Meg takes Castiel's hand, wanting to pull him with her. But he shakes his head, smiling at her apologetically; he doesn't want to dance. Meg understands and it doesn't take long for her to find another boy to dance with. Crowley, Garth and Ash keep standing with Cas.

 

He hasn't really talked to Ash in a while. Now, Ash is drunk, what means that he makes even more jokes and talks louder than usual. But they have to raise their voices anyway, because of the loud music.

 

It doesn't surprise anyone that Ash was invited by Anna. He's a little bit odd, but whenever there is a party you can count on Ash taking care of the music and the light. Everyone likes Ash.

 

Crowley asks if Billie is there and Castiel shakes his head, sipping at his drink. He doesn't want to get drunk, he just wants his hands to have to do something. He tells Crowley that Billie and Kevin weren't allowed to go, their mothers wouldn't let them.

 

The others get slowly or quickly drunk and then Benny comes over to them, holding Madison's hand and pulling her with him. They're also drunk and she's smiling sheepishly. Cas raises his eyebrows, but Benny just shoots him a look that says _Oh, just shut up_. They talk for a few minutes and nobody is mentioning them holding hands, but when they go to dance with each other again, Crowley snorts.

 

“I didn't know that they're a couple,” Ash says. His words are a little slurred, but he downs another drink.

 

“They aren't,” Cas says. “I think they're just starting to go out with each other.“ He's sure that Benny would have mentioned it, if he and Madison were already a thing.

 

Some time passes and Castiel notices that he's starting to feel more and more uncomfortable. He's not in the mood for dancing or getting drunk. Luckily, the others don't notice it; he doesn't want to ruin their night. Only Crowley seems to suspect something. He doesn't ask what's wrong, though, but rather if he could get anything for Castiel.

 

“In fact, I really could get you _anything_ ,” he offers. “Cocaine. Acid. Psychedelic mushrooms?“

 

Cas scoffs and he can't deny that Crowley's offering is delightful, but he still declines. He doesn't even know why. Crowley just shrugs his shoulders, but Cas notices that he shoots him questioning glances every now and then from that moment on. Usually, he doesn't decline when Crowley offers him something. He bites his lip, putting his glass down on a table.

 

“I'll be right back,” he tells Crowley, wanting to get some fresh air and to smoke a cigarette. But he forgot his cigarettes at home, or maybe Lucifer took them away; he isn't sure. He doesn't want to go back inside and ask Crowley for a cigarette, although he's sure that the Brit has his cigarettes with him as always. So he just sits down outside, on the steps that lead to the front porch.

 

It's around 10 pm by now, and it's a cold but clear night. Cas could try to count the stars that are twinkling above him, but he's content with just staring at them for now. He doesn't know for how long he sits like this, his head tilted back and a small smile playing on his lips. It calms him down and he forgets that he doesn't even want to be here. Maybe it's not that bad after all. And at least, his friends are having a lot of fun.

 

He stays like this, lost in thought, until he hears a familiar voice that asks, “What's so interesting up there?“

 

Cas drops his gaze, down to reality and down to a pair of green eyes that is staring at him curiously. He doesn't answer Dean right away. He just looks back for a few moments, probably just as curiously as Dean himself.

 

“I thought you weren't interested,” Castiel says slowly, remembering what Dean has said to Anna.

 

“I changed my mind.“ Dean shrugs his shoulders. “But only about the party,” he adds quickly, as if he thought it's important to tell Cas that he's still not interested in Anna. “I mean, free alcohol.“

 

Cas huffs a small laugh, nodding understandingly. He doesn't stop looking at Dean and Dean doesn't stop looking at him. He thinks Dean will go inside, diving into the crowd, drinking and maybe flirting with some girls. Maybe Anna just isn't his type. Cas doesn't know how to feel about this, but shouldn't he feel nothing at all at this thought anyway?

 

But Dean doesn't go inside, but rather sits down next to Castiel, who looks at him in surprise. There is an appropriate distance between them, but they're still close and in the light of the exterior illumination Cas can see the constellations of Dean's freckles. He looks away. He doesn't want to think about that it's more likely to count all the freckles on Dean's skin than all the stars in the sky. He doesn't want to think about how far down the freckles may go – if they are everywhere on Dean's body.

 

Cas clears his throat, looking down on his hands. He's still shivering with cold, but suddenly he feels too hot.

 

“What's that?“ Dean asks and Cas looks back up. Dean is also looking at his hands, with furrowed brow. Cas drops his gaze back to his hands and to the small tattoo on the palm of his left hand. He feels a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

 

“A tattoo,” he answers Dean's question, holding his hand up, so Dean is able to see it properly. It's a small tattoo that means a lot to Cas.

 

“A note?“

 

“Yeah,” Castiel says, still smiling slightly. Dean looks at him questioningly. “What for?“ he asks.

 

Castiel just stares back into these green eyes for a moment before he answers. “I love music. It always helps me feel better, or it just calms me down. Whenever I look at this tattoo, it reminds me of that.“

 

Dean nods, still looking at the tattoo. Cas lowers his hand again, wondering why he just told something so personal to Dean. He wants to change the topic.

 

“It calms me down,” he continues speaking, “just like a cigarette would do, if I hadn't forgotten my pack.“ He huffs a small breath. When he looks at Dean again, Dean is smiling and fishing a pack of cigarettes out of the pocket of his jacket. Without saying a word he offers Cas one and without thinking about it Cas takes it, as well as the lighter Dean hands to him.

 

With skilled fingers, he lights up the cigarette, taking a long pull and breathing out. He knows that Dean is watching him from the side, but he doesn't look back at him. Dean lights up his own cigarette and they smoke in silence, letting the smoke escape their lungs into the cold night air.

 

Castiel doesn't know what to think of this. Why didn't Dean just go inside? Why is he staying here with him?

 

He glances at Dean after all, who seems completely relaxed. Cas notices that he himself is calm as well. He looks at the ground. It's probably just the cigarette; smoking always calms him down, just like the tattoo on his hand. It has nothing to do with the fact that Dean is sitting next to him. Probably. Maybe.

 

Cas can feel it in his guts. Comfortableness is settling within him. He's _comfortable_ in Dean's presence.

 

He really should get up and go back inside to his friends. But he keeps sitting outside with the boy he wanted to hate.

 

Maybe he _does_ hate Dean. Or he just hates how easy it is to sit with him in silence and just smoke, and also how easy it is to talk with Dean. He doesn't even know what they're talking about. The words just come out of his mouth, he doesn't have to think about them. And Dean answers him, or he asks a question, or he just tells him something. Why is it so easy? It's as easy as talking with his friends...

 

Cas swallows. Maybe he should get up and get away from Dean. But then he realizes that's not what he wants. He should want to stay away from Dean. He shouldn't want to continue talking with him. It's _Dean Winchester_ , after all.

 

Dean has called him a faggot. Cas searches for anger in his heart and in his mind, but there is _none_. He's not mad at Dean. He thinks it would be easier to walk away, if he was mad at him. He wonders if he's supposed to be mad at Dean.

 

They stopped talking. Castiel doesn't remember when they stopped, but again, the silence isn't uncomfortable. He definitely should go, maybe even run away. He should get as far away from Dean as possible, because he shouldn't allow himself to feel so comfortable with him. But Cas doesn't move. He just takes another cigarette from Dean, ignoring the questioning glances he gets from the green-eyed boy. He'd like to know what Dean is thinking right now, but of course he doesn't ask him.

 

Cas doesn't know for how long they are already sitting there, when Benny comes outside. He was searching for Cas, wanting to know if everything's okay. Now, he's looking at him with raised eyebrows and a knowing look, after he found him with _a boy_ outside – and it's _Valentine's Day_. Cas wants to explain that it isn't like that. He briefly wonders if he wants it to be like that. But he drives this thought away, getting up from the steps. He doesn't know what to say, but he doesn't have to say anything.

 

Surprised, he has to watch Dean and Benny introduce themselves to each other – it seems that they are on good terms with one another right away. Cas would like to tell Benny that Dean and he aren't _anything_ , and that it was just a coincidence that they have met outside. They talked to each other for a while, so what? It doesn't mean anything. It _shouldn't_ mean anything.

 

But Benny and Dean are already going inside and are talking, and Castiel just follows them, eyeing Dean suspiciously. Why is Dean going with them? He doesn't know. Maybe Dean doesn't even know it himself. Maybe it's just because he doesn't know anyone else here. Cas kind of has to remind himself that Dean is new in town; somehow he forgot about that, since he's already this comfortable around the green-eyed boy – _too_ comfortable.

 

They go over to a table and Benny and Dean are getting drinks, but Cas doesn't want anything. He listens to their conversation with half an ear; they're talking about cars. He looks at Dean, who still seems relaxed. Cas noticed that his shoulders tensed outside, the moment Benny came outside. Now, he's calm again and Cas notices once again _how_ fucking green Dean's eyes are and how _endearing_ his smile is.

 

A few minutes later, Crowley finds them and he's not as delighted about Dean's presence as Benny seems to be. He stands next to Castiel, looking at him and rolling his eyes, when Dean puts two canapés at a time in his mouth. Cas has to suppress a smile at the sight, especially when Crowley says loud enough for everyone to hear, “Who invited the _squirrel_?“

 

Dean swallows. “What?“ he asks, looking at the Brit.

 

“What?“ Crowley asks back with an innocent voice. Cas is chuckling and Dean darts a glance at him. Did he only imagine it, or did Dean's eyes get softer as they wandered from Crowley to him? He looks at the dancing crowd, avoiding Dean's eyes now, because his recent thought makes him feel oddly warm.

 

Luckily, Madison comes over, laughing loudly. She grabs Benny's arm and pulls him into the crowd again, probably to dance and make out again. They distract Dean, who looks after the lovebirds, and then Charlie and Dorothy appear next to them all of a sudden. They are both drunk and giggling and holding hands. When Charlie sees Dean, she screams his name.

 

“ _Woah_ ,” Dean says, as Charlie hugs him.

 

“Dean,” Charlie says solemnly and points at Dorothy. “ _This_ is the love of my life.“

 

Dean raises his eyebrows, looking from Charlie to Dorothy and starting to grin. “The love of your life?“ he asks in amazement.

 

“Yep,” Dorothy says defensively, putting an arm around Charlie and kissing her on the cheek. Charlie is practically glowing. She takes Dorothy's hand and they disappear once again – probably to continue dancing and making out, just like Benny and Madison.

 

“They've only been dating for a few weeks,” Crowley says, shaking his head. Cas just shrugs his shoulders. He loves Charlie, she's like a sister to him. And she's drunk right now. If she wants to introduce Dorothy as the love of her life to Dean, she is allowed to do so. He can't stop her from doing it, and he won't even try. Cas knows perfectly well that Charlie believes in _love at first sight_ and _soulmates_. She doesn't care about what other people are saying, and she won't let anyone tell her that Dorothy and her are going too fast.

 

Castiel is lost in thought for a few moments and at first he doesn't notice that Dean is staring at him again. But then he does and he returns Dean's look. He raises his eyebrows and the green-eyed boy shrugs his shoulders. Cas doesn't know what he's supposed to say, if he's supposed to say anything at all. Maybe Dean will go now and will try to find other people he can talk to, but he still doesn't move. And when Cas tears his eyes away from Dean, he also notices that Crowley isn't there anymore. He frowns.

 

Fuck. Fuck, Crowley. Did he just leave him alone with Dean? _Seriously?_

 

Cas looks around, but he can't see Crowley anywhere. _Since when is the Brit so fast?_ But he doesn't have the chance to continue looking for Crowley or even to search for him. Dean is staring at the other end of the room. “Oh no,” he mutters and locks eyes with Cas before pulling him around the corner.

 

It happens very quickly, but somehow Cas _knew_ that it was going to happen, although he doesn't know the reason why – he doesn't want to think about that he saw it in Dean's eyes. He looks at the green-eyed boy questioningly and curiously, and then he realizes that they're standing very close. They haven't been this close since Cas punched Dean's face.

 

He remembers how he slammed Dean against the wall after Dean and Gadreel were at each other's throat. This time, Cas is the one leaning against the wall and Dean is the one standing in front of him – but he's not touching him. He only pulled very briefly at his arm to get him to move, probably remembering how Cas reacted the last time he just has touched him without warning him.

 

Castiel's thoughts are a mess. They are whirling around in his head at an excessive speed and he can't get over how _gently_ Dean grabbed his arm to pull him around the corner. He inhales deeply before he speaks again.

 

“What was that?“

 

“Anna was there,” Dean says apologetically. “I didn't want her to see me, you know?“

 

Cas nods, wondering why Dean doesn't step back. They're so close, a lot closer as when they sat on the steps outside. There is still some distance between them, but it's not enough and at the same time it is _too_ _much_. Cas wants to ask Dean if he could step back a bit. But he doesn't do it, because Dean is distracting him. Again, he is able to see all the freckles on Dean's face and again, he's wondering how far down they go and if he's able to count them. Again, he notices just how fucking green Dean's eyes are and the word _beautiful_ flashes through his mind, even though it has _absolutely_ no business there.

 

He should say something. But what? He can't think of something, not for the life of him.

 

And now – now Dean is looking at his lips, so blatantly, normally it would make Cas chuckle. But he rather thinks about that he hasn't kissed anyone _in years_. To be honest, the first and last time he has kissed a boy, it was a _disaster_. So, he shouldn't want this. He really, _really_ shouldn't want this. And maybe, he doesn't even want this. Maybe it's just curiosity speaking when he wonders how it would feel to kiss Dean, because he hasn't kissed someone for so long.

 

But he knows better, although he doesn't want to admit it. He just keeps wondering how Dean's lips would feel upon his, and _fuck_ , he just needed to lean forward a little bit and then he'd know. Is Dean thinking the same? Are the same questions running through his mind?

 

Cas wishes he knew but he doesn't, and he doesn't know what to do and he also wishes someone would tell him what to do – what he is _supposed_ to do. There is a voice in his head, telling him it's _wrong_. He shouldn't want to kiss Dean. He shouldn't kiss Dean. There are so many reasons why he shouldn't do that and why he _can't_ do that.

 

Cas really should know better.

 

He gulps. Fuck. Fucking hell. What is he going to do? Is Dean going to do something? Or will they just stay like this forever, staring at each other's lips and wishing the other did the first step?

 

Castiel has to make a decision. And he knows that. He has to decide. Or hasn't he?

 

Apparently, not tonight, because suddenly Gabriel is there, being loud and drunk and looking at Dean in surprise. “Dean-o!” he slurs, squinting at him and slinging an arm around Cas. “Didn't know you were here.“ He lets go of Cas again, swaying a bit. But he isn't able to concentrate on them and gets distracted by Gadreel, deciding to walk over to him. Cas can see them for a few seconds before they disappear into another room.

 

He looks at Dean again and a chuckle climbs up his throat, but somehow it gets stuck. Is he only imagining this, or is Dean _blushing_? It's not much, but he could swear that Dean's cheek are colored slightly.

 

Dean clears his throat, looking down briefly and then up again and at the watch on his wrist. “I, uh, I have to go home,” he mutters, looking at Cas once again.

 

“Curfew?“ Cas asks, feeling like his voice sounds weirdly. He stares at Dean, not wanting him to go and feeling plain stupid for that. It's probably best if Dean goes now, he tells himself.

 

“No, I promised my little brother not to stay too long,” Dean explains apologetically, a small smile touching the corners of his mouth.

 

“I didn't know you have a little brother,” Cas says, wrinkling his brow.

 

A smirk finds its way onto Dean's lips. “There are a lot of things you don't know about me.“

 

Cas knows that Dean probably just meant this as a joke, maybe he even flirted with him, who knows? But he _believes_ Dean. He has already noticed it when they were at the bar. There is so much going on in Dean's mind, behind those beautiful green eyes, and Dean doesn't want anyone to see it. But Cas _can_ see it. He just doesn't know what it is exactly, and maybe he doesn't even want to know. Doesn't he have enough secrets and problems on his own?

 

Cas believes that Dean has a lot of secrets as well – _dark_ secrets. He is able to see it. He is able to see the endless shadow on Dean's soul and all the demons that are lurking behind him. Doesn't he have enough of those as well?

 

Cas wants to reply to Dean, although he doesn't know what, but then something catches his eye. He is looking over Dean's shoulder and there is someone on the other side of the room, watching them.

 

Alastair.

 

Cas frowns, straightening himself. For a few seconds they lock eyes, but then Dean starts to talk again and Cas looks back to him. When he glances back to where Alastair was standing, he's not there anymore. Cas bites his lip, confused. What is Alastair doing here and why was he watching them?

 

“Do you have a little brother, too?“

 

He needs a moment until his brain understands Dean's question. Dean hasn't seen Alastair and Cas decides not to tell him that he was there. What would be the point?

 

He shakes his head. “No, I _am_ the little brother,” he says, smiling a bit. “I have a big brother.“

 

Dean nods, smiling back at him. Then, he leaves and Cas has the feeling that their goodbye was awkward more than anything. He tries not to think about it and downs some drinks, ignoring the fact that he didn't want to drink tonight.

 

Suddenly, it's around 2 am and Charlie calls Lucifer and he comes to pick them up. They say goodbye to their friends; they can't find Benny and Madison anywhere and assume that they already left together. Crowley finds them with Meg in tow, who writes her number on some boy's hand before she gets into the car. Castiel doesn't ask Crowley why he left him alone with Dean earlier.

 

Charlie falls asleep on Dorothy's lap and Dorothy wakes her gently when they're in front of Charlie's home. Dorothy is going to stay there for tonight; that's what they arranged with their parents. They drive Meg home and then Crowley to his little apartment.

 

Castiel thinks he's unusually still on the drive home, but no one seems to notice; they're all tired. When it's just Lucifer and him, his brother asks how the party was and Cas shrugs his shoulders, answering that it was okay.

 

Back home, they say goodnight and they both go to their rooms, but Cas doesn't go to sleep. He sits on his bed, cross-legged, and stares at his hands and his fingernails. They're navy blue. He's biting his lip again and without thinking about it, he starts to rummage around in the drawer of his nightstand until he's holding the green nail polish in his hand.

 

He doesn't know for how long he only stares at it, remembering the afternoon in Missouri's shop and that the green reminded him of Dean's eyes. It still does. It is almost the same color as Dean's eyes.

 

Almost going through the motions, he gets up and goes into the bathroom. He tries to be quiet so he doesn't wake up his brother. He removes the blue nail polish on his fingernails and puts on the green with skilled fingers. He isn't thinking about anything; he just moves his hands and concentrates on what he's doing.

 

When he's done, he stares at his green fingernails and thinks about Dean yet again. They were standing so close after Dean pulled him around the corner. Did they almost kiss? Or is Cas just _imagining_ everything? Was Dean thinking about something entirely different the whole time?

 

Does it even matter? Nothing has happened. Does Cas _want_ something to happen? He shouldn't want this and he shouldn't think about kissing Dean. He shouldn't think about Dean at all.

 

Suddenly, Cas is angry at himself. What the fuck is he doing? Why is he allowing himself to feel and think like that?

 

As quickly as possible, he removes the green nail polish again, but he is unable to bring himself to throw it away. He just puts it back into the drawer of his nightstand.

 

 _Stupid. So fucking stupid_ , whispers the voice in his head and he agrees with it, lying down on his bed and closing his eyes. _Just fucking stupid._

 

But the tingling sensation in his stomach, when he thinks about Dean and about kissing him, stays.

 

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

Cas has thought that he finally could start to stop thinking about Dean, but quite the opposite is happening. He thinks _even more_ about Dean, and the reason for that is probably because he also spends more time with Dean.

 

Really, it's weird. He wants to stop thinking about Dean and to hate him, because that would be easier than _liking_ Dean and _enjoying_ to talk to him. But, instead of getting away from Dean, he's getting closer to him. It's not a lot, but they talk with each other and it's exactly like when they sat outside on the steps in front of Anna's house – easygoing.

 

They just start to talk to each other whenever they meet in a hallway at school. Most of the time, they're talking about trivial things. Cas wants to hate it, he really does. But he can't. He's only able to hate how much he likes talking to Dean and that he doesn't stop talking to him.

 

His mind is telling him _that he should stop it_. And man, does it have good reasons why he really should stop talking to Dean.

 

But then he's already talking to Dean again and he notices that Dean's eyes sparkle when he talks about his dad's car or his little brother Sam. He notices that he can't see Dean's freckles when there's bad light, and he doesn't like that. He notices that Dean runs his fingers through his hair fairly often and his hair is such a soft brown tone, and Cas wonders what it would feel like to run _his_ fingers through it. He notices that Dean wears always a leather jacket that's a little bit too big for him and he assumes it belonged to Dean's father. He also notices that the features of Dean's face are too hard sometimes, but as soon as he's smiling his face lights up again.

 

Cas learns that Dean is allergic to cats, that he likes rock 'n' roll and that he knows a lot about cars. And Cas also learns that Dean loves his little brother, that he avoids talking about his father and that they have one important thing in common.

 

It happens during a break. Castiel is on his way to his locker when he meets Dean. As always lately, they start a conversation and Dean just goes with him to his locker. Somehow, they start to talk about their families. Dean tells him that he's proud of Sam, because he's good at school and Cas chuckles, saying that Dean reminds him of his own big brother when he's talking like that. Dean asks him what it's like to _have_ a big brother and to _be_ the little brother.

 

Cas closes his locker, leaning against it and thinking about Dean's question. “It's... great, I'd say. He's always there for me and tries to protect me, and of course, it's also the other way around. But he thinks he has more responsibilities, because he's the older brother.“

 

“Well, he's not wrong.“

 

“Maybe it's a big brother thing,” Cas says, smiling and adjusting the strap of his backpack on his shoulder. “Maybe,” Dean says, returning the smile.

 

“Do you think there are also things that only fathers do?“ Cas asks suddenly, biting his lip. He doesn't even know where the question is coming from. With a frown, he looks at Dean but the green-eyed boy is looking at the wall across from them – his eyes are hard and his jaw is clenched, and Cas realizes that he shouldn't have asked this question of all things.

 

“Probably,” Dean answers after a while. By now, Cas thought he'd just skip the question and change the topic. Dean's voice is filled with bitterness and Cas stares at him. He has to think about Bartholomew and he is sure, when Dean would have asked him that question, he'd answered it like he did. Even with the same tone of voice. And that can only mean one thing.

 

“I'm only guessing, but your father won't win the price _father of the year_ either,” Cas says. He wanted to ask a question, but it didn't _sound_ like a question; there's no question mark at the end of his sentence. Dean looks at the ground. Cas notices that he frowns at the word _either_ , but Dean doesn't say something.

 

Castiel assumes that Dean belongs to those people who don't want to get pity from others. So he isn't going to pity him. But the least he can do is letting Dean know that he can understand how he's feeling. Cas doesn't want to jump to conclusions, but he remembers the black eye Dean had, and only last week, he had a scratch on his chin and since yesterday, there's another cut on his hand. He didn't ask Dean how he got these, but if he had to guess, he wouldn't have to guess very long.

 

He looks Dean over, who's still not looking at him. And then, Cas decides that he won't ask Dean any questions about his father. He has no right to ask questions, and it's more than obvious that Dean doesn't want to talk about this anyway. He probably wouldn't even answer him.

 

But there is one thing that Cas needs to know. He can't even explain why he feels the need to know about this. And he isn't sure how to start.

 

“I think there are certain things that only certain people do. You know, big brothers and sisters, little brothers and sisters, fathers, mothers...“ He shrugs, not stopping to look at Dean, who's biting his lip now.

 

Dean looks up again and past Cas. “I guess so.“

 

“Yeah,” Cas says, tilting his head a bit. “My mom used to look into my closet and under my bed before I went to sleep to see if any monsters were hidden there. She did that every night.“ A small smile graces his lips at the memory.

 

“She _used_ to do that,” Dean mutters. He looks at Cas questioningly. “Now of course, you're too old for that. But you still only live together with your brother and your dad. What about your mom?“

 

Cas inhales and exhales, not looking at Dean anymore. He swallows. “She's dead.“ The words still hurt. He wonders if it's ever going to stop hurting. _Probably not._

 

“She's dead?“ Dean repeats. Cas glances at him and he sees what he wished he wouldn't see in Dean's eyes – a knowing look. “I'm sorry,” he says, but Cas shakes his head, not wanting Dean to apologize for that. He waits for a few seconds, and then Dean confirms what he was thinking.

 

“My mom is dead, too.“ He says it as quietly as possible, and Cas wonders if Dean heard the pain in his voice like he just heard it in Dean's own voice.

 

Cas realizes only now that he had wanted to have something in common with Dean, other than the bad boy stuff. But not _this_.

 

“What happened?“ Dean asks. They lock eyes again.

 

“Cancer,” Cas says, voice slightly strained. “She had cancer.“

 

The bell rings and they both jump a little. Dean grabs his backpack, shouldering it as he starts to walk away slowly. He looks at Castiel.

 

“When did she die?“ he asks.

 

“I was nine,” Cas answers, following Dean. They walk in silence to the end of the hallway. Dean has to go right and Cas has to go left. He wants to ask Dean what happened to his mother, but the words don't pass his lips.

 

“When I was six, there was a fire in our house,” Dean says before he walks away. Cas just stands there in the middle of the hallway for a few moments before he remembers that he's supposed to be in his next class.

 

The next time he sees Dean, they don't waste any words on that topic. It's like they haven't talked about it at all. But they did talk about it and Cas doesn't get it out of his head. Dean was even younger than himself when he lost his mother.

 

_When I was six, there was a fire in our house._

 

Dean's mother died in that fire. Cas doesn't even want to imagine such a situation. It was enough for him that his mother got the diagnose _breast cancer_. The thought that he had three more years with his mother than Dean had with his messes him up.

 

He kind of wishes he hadn't asked Dean. Honestly, why did he feel the need to ask anyway? He still isn't able to answer this question. And it also kind of surprises him that Dean actually answered him – that Dean was honest with him. After all, Dean didn't have to tell him anything. Maybe he did it, because Cas was honest with him as well.

 

But they don't talk about it again. In fact, they don't talk about a lot of things. They avoid talking about their parents again. Sometimes, they talk about Sam or Lucifer, but just a little bit. Neither of them mentions their parents ever again. When Dean comes to school with another bruise on his face, Cas doesn't ask him any questions. When Cas gets a phone call from Bartholomew during lunch break and fights with him over the phone, and is upset and is also short with Dean after that, Dean doesn't ask him any questions. And they also don't really talk about why their families moved here, and what has been before they arrived at this town.

 

Every now and then, Cas starts to wonder what there even _is_ to talk about with Dean. Dean likes cars – Cas isn't interested in cars. They listen to different styles of music. They dress differently. But then they start a discussion which _Game_ _of_ _Thrones_ season is the best and Dean is totally baffled when Castiel tells him that he has read the books. Vice versa, Cas is totally baffled when he hears that Dean has never at least watched _Harry Potter_.

 

“ _Really? Never?“_

“ _No. Sam has though, but I never wanted to. Sam has also read the books, I think.“_

“ _But why? It's_ Harry Potter _.“_

“ _So? It's just a few books and movies.“_

“ _That'd be like, if I said the Impala is just a car.“_

 

Dean has looked so shocked. Cas has to chuckle, just when he thinks about it. And that's the other thing. It's not only that they always find a topic to talk about. Dean also makes him smile and laugh and Cas hates it with all his heart.

 

He's not the only one, though. Gadreel is underwhelmed by him spending more and more time with Dean Winchester. He thinks Dean is a complete idiot. Every time they meet, they always almost start another fight.

 

Castiel wishes his other friends would agree with Gadreel; maybe then it'd be easier to just ditch Dean. But Charlie and Dorothy are _over the moon_ with Dean, and Benny likes Dean anyway. And apparently, it's a little bit obvious that Cas likes Dean as well, because Charlie and Dorothy start to giggle and beam at them, whenever they meet them in the hallways. Add to this, all the jokes and innuendos Gabriel and Meg are making _all the fucking time_ , and they're even insisting that Cas is developing _a_ _crush_ on Dean – what's just absolutely idiotic. He isn't developing _a crush_ on Dean, he just can't do this. He isn't doing that. It's simply impossible and definitely the last thing Castiel wants at the moment.

 

But it's almost bothering Cas even more that Kevin, Garth, Ash and also Crowley aren't saying anything about it. Especially Crowley, because the Brit must _always_ butt in. Crowley has an opinion to _everything_ , but he doesn't say something about Dean. He and Dean growl at each other from time to time, but besides this – nothing. Absolutely nothing and Cas isn't sure whether it pisses him off or not.

 

He even called Crowley on it once, when they smoked on the stone blocks after school together. But Crowley just smiled at him with a smug expression on his face, shrugging his shoulders and changing the topic.

 

Luckily, his friends have other topics to go on about as well.

 

Benny and Madison are officially together now. And of course, Charlie and Dorothy are a couple as well and the others are trying to tell Charlie that she shouldn't call Dorothy _the love of her life_ already. During almost every lunch break, they're talking about that Charlie and Dorothy should take it slow. Of course, Charlie is downright scandalized at that.

 

It's Wednesday and Cas met Dean on the way to the cafeteria in a hallway. They started to talk as often happens lately. They're going to the cafeteria together and Cas gets a water bottle, but Dean doesn't want something. Cas sees Charlie, Gabriel, Ash and Gadreel sitting at one of the table. It's raining heavily; big raindrops are pattering against the window panes. Cas starts to smile at the sight.

 

“Please, don't say you like rain,” Dean says, screwing up his nose. Cas huffs a small laugh. “I love rain.“

 

Dean rolls his eyes.

 

“Hey, you wanna sit with us?“ Cas asks, biting his lip. Dean looks back at him, hesitating noticeably. He glances at the table where Castiel's friends are sitting.

 

“You don't have to,” Cas says hastily, feeling stupid and awkward. “It was just a question.“ He shrugs his shoulders. Maybe he shouldn't have asked this question, he thinks, but then Dean nods.

 

“Sure, why not?“ he says, already starting to walk over to Castiel's friends. Cas follows him, trying to hide his smile and to ignore the voice in his head that's whispering _wrong_. Dean will just sit with them – _why is that wrong?_ he wants to ask back. But he knows the answer already. He doesn't know what Dean and he are, and he shouldn't want them to be _anything_. But here he is, inviting Dean to sit with him and his friends, even though he really should know better.

 

They arrive at the table and apparently Cas' friends are talking about Charlie's and Dorothy's relationship yet again.

 

“When you've found _the right person_ , you just know it,” Charlie just said.

 

Gabriel shakes his head. “You're only 18.“

 

“So?“ Charlie asks, shrugging her shoulders and taking a sip from her apple spritzer.

 

“Cas!“ Gabriel exclaims, getting up and pulling at Castiel's arm, so he sits down next to him, and completely ignoring Dean for the moment, who sits down next to Charlie. She smiles friendly at him. Meanwhile, Cas tries to ignore Gadreel, who's already scowling at Dean.

 

“Cas, what do you think about it?“ Gabriel asks, staring at him. Cas glances at Charlie. “I'm not going to interfere in a relationship that doesn't involve me.“

 

“Thank you!“ Charlie says, looking at Gabriel and shaking her head.

 

“We don't want to _interfere_ , we're just worried about you,” Gabriel defends himself.

 

“Very cute, Gabe,” Charlie says, huffing a small breath.

 

She turns to Dean with a very serious expression on her face. “Dean, do you believe in love at first sight?“

 

At the very moment, Meg walks over to them and all the others are already rushing upon her, asking what she thinks about Charlie's and Dorothy's relationship. Because of that, Charlie and Cas are the only ones who hear Dean's answer to her question.

 

“Maybe,” he says, a small smile playing on his lips and he shrugs his shoulders. He seems embarrassed and looks away. But Charlie's face lights up and Cas feels himself going red in the face. He tries to pretend he doesn't see that she's looking at him, a big grin on her lips, or that Dean is also staring at him. But then their eyes meet nonetheless and they both look away immediately.

 

There's a tingling in Castiel's stomach that quickly spreads out through his entire body.

 

_Fuck._

 

He tries to concentrate on the conversation of his friends. Meg has sat down and everyone is staring at her. Gadreel says that Meg is also seeing the guy that she met at Anna's party. But Meg shakes her head. “We basically just make out with each other when we meet.“

 

“Yeah, you can't compare Meg with Charlie,” Ash points out.

 

“Exactly!” Charlie means, smiling triumphantly.

 

Cas watches his friends who continue to discuss. They're all laughing and smiling and it's not so serious anymore. But every now and then, he glances at Dean, who doesn't participate in the conversation as well. He seems lost in thought, a small smile is tugging at the corners of his mouth.

 

_Do you believe in love at first sight?_

 

The question pops up in Castiel's head and he can't help it, he just stares at Dean. His mind forms the word _maybe_ on its own anyway.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Dean can't believe how fast time is passing. They're already here for almost three months and it's almost a miracle, but John still has his job. Though, Dean wonders for how much longer it will go well; he's wondering about this, since they moved here. And John is drinking again, spending most of their money on cheap spirits, so he thinks he has every right to wonder about this.

 

Most of the time, John is drunk or half-drunk, and there have been a few fights. Dean thinks that he always got off lightly. It's more important to him that nothing happens to Sammy anyway. So far, John didn't set his hands on Sam, but just because Dean was always there.

 

He got another black eye from John. It was late and Sam has just gone to bed. Dean turned off the light in the kitchen and in the living room and then John came home. Dean thinks he didn't even recognize him. John was swaying a bit and Dean didn't do the same mistake again; he didn't touch John. But apparently he still stood too close to his father and John just punched him.

 

At another time, John punched him in the face and only hit his chin. Dean had a scratch there for a few days. It happened before they went to school. John came home from a night shift and Dean and Sam were having breakfast. Dean told Sam to go upstairs, as soon as John has entered the house. They didn't make a mess in the kitchen, but John perceived it as such – _apparently_.

 

The scratch Dean had on his hand the other day is already healing. John threw two plates through the kitchen and Dean is just glad that he didn't hit Sam or him with them. After John disappeared into his room, Dean picked up the shards, but he cut himself on one.

 

Though luckily, they're able to avoid John most of the time. They lock themselves in one of their rooms when John is there, or they go to the park or simply for a walk. It's especially good when John has a late shift, because that means they don't see each other at all on that day. John isn't up when they go to school and when they come back home, he already went off to work. And when he comes back home, Dean and Sam are already in their rooms.

 

Somehow, their life together is working. Mostly, just because they're simply avoiding one another.

 

But still, Sam is in a better mood. He gets along at school and he sees that Dean does as well. Every so often, they talk with Bobby over the phone. Dean feels bad whenever he thinks about the promise he gave to Bobby, since he doesn't stick to it. He tells Bobby that John is still drinking and that there were a few fights, but he doesn't tell him that John punched him again. He doesn't want Bobby to stand before the door one day. John might open the door, and then what? He'd be furious and everything would worsen even more again.

 

At school, everything is okay. Sure, Dean doesn't have extremely good grades like Sammy does, but he also doesn't really care about this. He knows that he's the most comfortable when he's with Castiel, and he also knows that that's probably wrong, but he just can't help it.

 

Since the party at Anna's house, they talk to each other frequently. And Dean _enjoys_ it. He is able to make Castiel smile and laugh fairly often and every time those blue eyes light up for a few seconds, he is able to forget about how it was when the blue shattered into a million pieces.

 

He has told Cas ( _Cas_ – he hasn't called him that out loud so far; he only does it in his mind) that his mother is dead. He wouldn't have done it, if Cas hadn't told him first that his mother is dead as well. Dean doesn't like that they have _this_ in common, of all things.

 

Since they found out about that, they haven't talked about their families again. Sometimes, they mention their brothers, but not their parents. Dean is sure that Cas has problems with his father as well, but he doesn't ask him any questions about it. Cas doesn't ask him any questions about John either. They avoid talking about them because it's easier, and Dean doesn't even know why he should tell Castiel about any of his problems. But one of his problems is also _that he doesn't know what they are._

 

He knows that he wanted to kiss Cas at Anna's party. He's sure that it was also quite obvious. But he didn't do it, because of Cas – in his blue eyes were questions upon questions and underneath them, Dean could see the fear. It would have been wrong just to kiss Cas then and there. And after the party, Dean didn't know how Cas was going to react, when he'd see him the next time.

 

But they talked to each other and then again and again and again. Of course, they didn't talk about that moment, when they've just looked at each other at the party. But Dean thought that maybe Cas wouldn't want to talk to him at all, because of it.

 

He was wrong. Cas actually wants to talk with him and by now, Dean has sat with him and his friends a few times already – and he just ignores Gadreel intentionally, who always scowls at him.

 

Now, it's the end of March, it's Friday and his last class for today is English – together with Castiel. And there's something in the back of his mind since they started to talk to each other every day and it's really bothering him. He wants to spend _even more time_ with Cas, can you believe that?

 

So, all day long he already has this idea in his head and he isn't sure if he should actually go through with it. He doesn't want to make a fool of himself.

 

Castiel is spending the lunch break outside with Meg, Crowley and Gadreel, and Dean is wandering aimlessly through the hallways. He doesn't know when he decides to actually do it, but then he's already in front of the classroom. He's never this early – maybe that's why Mr. Wyatt is so surprised to see him.

 

Dean doesn't sit down at his usual place in the last row, he sits down in the first row. Mr. Wyatt darts a questioning glance at him, but he doesn't say something about it and then the other students are already entering the room.

 

A girl walks in and sees Dean sitting on her seat, and she is noticeably upset about that. But she doesn't come to him and asks him what he's doing, even though it seems like it for a moment. She just sits down in the back of the class and Dean chuckles lightly to himself.

 

He knows that he doesn't really bother to get the bad boy reputation he wanted at the moment, but oddly enough he also doesn't really care about it at the moment.

 

Castiel is one of the last students that enter the classroom. When Dean looks up, he sees him standing in the doorway and staring at him. Of course – after all, Dean is sitting on the seat next to Castiel's. He can see the question in Castiel's eyes, but then Mr. Wyatt starts the lesson and he has to sit down.

 

He glances at Dean, while getting a pen, his book and a notepad out of his backpack. Dean just smiles at him and then looks at Mr. Wyatt, who's just turning around to write something on the blackboard.

 

Dean looks at Cas, when a little note is placed on his own notepad. Cas just continues writing down what's standing on the blackboard, but a small smile is gracing his lips. Dean looks down on the note and the first thing that comes to his mind is that he likes Castiel's handwriting.

 

_What are you doing?_

 

He bites his lip. _I was bored there in the back._

 

When Mr. Wyatt turns around once again, he puts the note on Castiel's desk. Cas reads it, huffing a small breath. He answers with a single word.

 

_Sure._

 

No other class before has been this good, and without hesitation Dean decides to do it, to sit next to Cas, again. Because they haven't been this close for such a long time period yet and Dean notices all those little things he's already noticed before all over again. The little head-tilt Cas does every now and then and also the way he squints at basically everything is simply _adorable_. His dark hair is as messy as always and Cas messes it up even more by running his fingers through it from time to time, probably doing that on purpose. Dean bites his lip again, wondering what it'd feel like to run his fingers through Castiel's hair.

 

On Tuesday, when Cas enters the classroom, Dean is already sitting there in the front row again. He raises his eyebrows at him, but Dean just shrugs. He sees the smile on Castiel's face and knows that it was the _right_ decision. On Friday, Cas isn't surprised when Dean sits down next to him again.

 

Dean can't believe it but the whole week, he was always just waiting to see Cas again, to see those blue eyes again, and to hear this gravelly voice again. But it's the last week before spring break and he has absolutely no idea what he's supposed to do the next week, other than to be bored stiff. Besides, he won't see Castiel and somehow that is bothering him the most, even though he won't admit it.

 

But Sam has other plans than to be just bored the whole time. He convinces Dean to do their homework together and afterwards, they go to the park. They also go grocery shopping together and watch movies in the living room – when John isn't there, of course. It's a little bit more difficult to avoid John, who keeps forgetting that it's spring break. Whenever he's only half-drunk, or even almost sober, and it's midmorning and he sees them in the house, he asks them why they aren't at school.

 

On Thursday, it's reasonably good weather. The sun is peeking through the clouds, but partly there aren't any clouds at all and Dean and Sam spend most of the afternoon at the park, since John had a morning shift and is at home now. There's a small playground and they sit down on the swings. Dean smokes two cigarettes, listening to the creak of the swings.

 

Sam watches Dean with a sour expression on his face. “What?“ Dean asks, knowing the answer to that question already. Sam is staring at the cigarette in his hand.

 

“Why won't you stop smoking?“ Sam asks. Dean looks at him, taking another pull on his cigarette and exhaling slowly. “I don't know, man,” he answers. “I just can't.“ He sighs, shrugging his shoulders once. He sounds apologetically. He is sorry, because he knows how much Sam hates that he's smoking.

 

His little brother just nods and doesn't ask any further question as for smoking. Dean wants him to smile again, so he gets up, stomping out the cigarette with the heel of his boot, and says that they're going to get some ice cream on the way home. It works. Sam's face lights up and for the moment, he forgets about the cigarettes and that Dean won't stop smoking.

 

It's not like he doesn't want to stop, Dean thinks, walking and licking at his ice cream. It's just that he has more reasons to continue smoking, than he has to stop.

 

The ice cream improved Sam's mood again and they just started to talk about how this girl, Becky, is still trying to get Sam's attention, whenever they're meeting at school. Dean laughs and Sam scowls at him, but then he grins as well. They just left the main street when someone bumps into Dean.

 

At first, he thinks it's just an accident and kinda waits for the other person to mutter a quick _sorry_ , but the person stops walking and looks at him, an idly grin on their lips.

 

It's Cole.

 

“Hey, Dean,” he says slowly, glancing at Sam.

 

Dean automatically steps to the side, hiding Sam behind him, and Cole cracks a smile and his knuckles. Dean can see it in his eyes – Cole is seeking for a fight.

 

Maybe it'd be the best if he just knocked Cole out before he is able to do something. But Sam is pulling him by the sleeve, grabbing his arm and holding him back – he doesn't want Dean to fight. But it's no good, because in the millisecond when Dean glances at his little brother to decide what to do, Cole is starting to lunge at him.

 

Due to that, Sam is pushed to the side and then Cole is already aiming at Dean's face. Dean avoids the blow, ducking and hitting Cole just below the costal arch. Cole grunts, pushing Dean away and this time he's able to punch him in the face and hits Dean's jaw. Dean tilts his head, tasting blood in his mouth. Cole grabs his arm, probably wanting to pull it behind his back, but Dean grabs his wrist, yanking at it and causing Cole to stumble forwards.

 

They both deal a few blows and the only thing on Dean's mind is _to keep Cole away from Sam._ He can hear Sam shouting, but the words don't reach his brain. He's just thinking that he fucking hates this guy, when Cole manages to throw him off balance and he falls to the ground. Cole spends no time and quickly kicks Dean in the ribs first and then in the guts right away.

 

Dean's breath catches. _Fuck._

 

He's waiting for the next kick, the next hit – he doesn't know what Cole's going to do – and Dean thinks, maybe he'll be able to grab his foot, his leg, his arm or whatever and make Cole fall down as well. But nothing happens. Dean looks up just in time to see how someone tears Cole away from him and dashes him roughly against the exterior wall of the nearest house.

 

Dean sits up and he sees black combat boots, tight blue jeans, a trenchcoat and red fingernails – _Castiel._

 

Cole has the good sense not to mess with Dean _and_ Castiel and bolts.

 

Dean is stunned, but he takes the hand Cas is holding out for him and lets him help him to get up. Though, he doesn't have the time to think about what it feels like to hold Castiel's hand in his own, because Cas lets go as soon as Dean is standing. Also, Sam is right beside them, looking at Castiel, completely astounded.

 

Dean feels awkward; he suddenly remembers that Sam has already heard some stuff about Castiel and Cas seems to feel a bit uncomfortable because of the way Sam is looking at him, since the amazement slowly makes way for distrust.

 

Castiel looks at Dean and Dean can just stare into these blue eyes for a second.

 

“Uh, Sammy this is Cas – _Castiel_ ,” Dean corrects himself quickly, not looking at Castiel. He hasn't called him _Cas_ before. For a moment, he's quiet, rubbing his ribs where Cole's shoe hit him. He already knows what his upper body will look like tomorrow – there are going to be two big bruises. _Splendid._ He bites his lip and looks at Cas again. “This is my little brother, Sammy.“

 

“Sam,” Sam corrects him automatically and rolls his eyes. He looks at Cas. “Hi.“

 

“Hi,” Cas replies, smiling a bit.

 

The tension between them eases when Sam thanks Castiel for saving them. Dean has the feeling he missed something really important, because suddenly Sam and Cas start a conversation and also start walking. Dean looks after them, confused, and follows them.

 

He doesn't take part in the conversation and just watches them. They're talking completely casually with each other. Though, Sam looks questioningly at Castiel's fingernails quite often (Dean reminds himself that Sam never met Castiel before) and after a few minutes, Cas notices it.

 

“What?“ he asks. Sam shrugs his shoulders. “Your fingernails...“

 

“What about them?“

 

“They're red,” Dean says and Cas looks over his shoulder, squinting at him. “Actually, they're raspberry-colored.“

 

Sam giggles and also looks at Dean, who starts to grin, shaking his head. Cas grins back at him (what's causing a massive turmoil inside of Dean because it's literally breathtaking) before he turns around again.

 

Cas doesn't ask once where they're going, but Dean knows that Sam took the path home. When they turn into their street, Dean stops walking.

 

“Hey, Sammy.“ Sam turns around; he and Cas also stop walking. Dean checks if the Impala is in their driveway, but it isn't so John isn't home. “You can go ahead, I'll be right there.“

 

Sam raises his eyebrows and Cas looks at him curiously, but they don't say something about it. Sam says goodbye to Cas and then he leaves. Dean waits until he sees that Sam has entered their house before he steps closer to Cas.

 

“Is something wrong?“ Castiel asks, biting his lip. Dean smiles at him, shaking his head. “No, I just wanted to thank you.“

 

Cas huffs a breath. “Never mind,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. Dean tilts his head. “No honestly, you saved my ass there.“

 

Only after Cas starts to grin again, Dean realizes that he's always trying to make the blue-eyed boy smile and laugh. And yes, he wants another smile, another grin, another laugh, because everything's fine when the blue ocean is sparkling.

 

They agree on Cole being an utterly asshole and also a coward, and they both laugh when they talk about how he ran away.

 

“What a lucky coincidence that you were there,” Dean says.

 

“I was on my way to a friend, who owns a little shop,” Cas tells him. “She asked if I could help her a bit. And then I saw you and Cole fighting.“

 

“Oh,” Dean says, feeling the guilt pooling in his stomach. “I'm sorry that we kept you back from that.“

 

But now Cas smiles at him, shaking his head. “No, it's fine. Really,” he says. “It was nice. To make Sam's acquaintance, I mean.“

 

Dean grins. “Sure. And that you got to beat Cole up a little bit was...“

 

“...a lucky coincidence?“ Cas says, grinning once again. Dean laughs, looking at the ground. When he looks back up again, Cas is staring at him.

 

“No, really Dean. I like Sam. He's nice. And very smart,” he adds. Dean nods. “Yeah, that sounds like Sammy.“ Something enters his mind and he starts to chew on the inside of his cheek.

 

“Raspberry-colored?“ he wonders, looking at Castiel's fingernails, barely able to restrain another grin. Cas cocks his head. “What do you mean?“

 

“That's just fucking _red_ ,” Dean says, totally serious. Cas purses his lips. For a few seconds, they just look at each other, then they explode with laughter.

 

Dean doesn't even know why it's so funny. But Castiel is laughing and the sound of his gravelly voice _laughing_ sends goosebumps all over his body. He wonders whether he should ask Cas if he wants to come in, or not. After all, John isn't there, so it's the perfect time.

 

But Castiel looks at the watch on his wrist, frowning. “I'm already running quite late,” he says, looking at Dean. “I'll better hurry. Missouri is probably already wondering where I am.“

 

Dean nods, ignoring the sinking feeling in his stomach, but rather thinking that Missouri is probably the friend, who owns the shop and whom Cas wanted to help.

 

“Okay, then... bye,” Cas says, rubbing his arm.

 

“Bye,” Dean says. His mouth is dry, he licks his lips, and then the question is already bubbling out of his mouth. “We'll see us on Monday?“

 

Cas, who already made a few steps, turns around again, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “We'll see us on Monday.“

 

Dean watches Cas go, while a smile finds its way onto his lips, but he's still wondering what the fuck is going on. Why did he feel the need to ask this? He hates that the answer is already there in his mind. _Because he needs something to look forward to._

 

He shakes his head, even though he knows he's already missing the blue. He slowly walks the last meters home and he remembers the question Charlie has asked him during lunch break and his answer to that question.

 

“ _Do you believe in love at first sight?“_

“ _Maybe.“_

 

Dean can't help it, he just can't stop smiling. He isn't even able to fight the warm feeling that starts to spread through his entire body. _Love at first sight._

 

He knows that he looked at Castiel after he answered the question. _Maybe._

 

Fucking shit. That's such a _stupid_ thought, he thinks and opens the front door, but the smile on his lips is still there.

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry you had to wait two weeks for the new chapter. I was kinda busy, and I saw Love, Simon and Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again in the movie theatre and I loved both movies.
> 
> But of course, I also spent a lot of time working on this chapter and now it's super, super long :) and I really hope you'll like it. I'm sorry if there are any typos, there are over 12 thousands words, so I think I might have missed some.  
> Also, huge trigger warning, since you get to know more of Castiel's past.
> 
> But I hope you enjoy it nevertheless. Please, comment and let me know what you think. I always look forward to reading comments :D and thank you so much for taking the time to read my fanfiction! I love you and I hope you have a great day!
> 
> ~ KC

With the spring break being a thing of the past, the finals are a lot closer now. Castiel can't believe that he's going to graduate school in just a few weeks. It feels so surreal.

 

But he's not the only one who can't believe it. The other seniors can't believe it either. They barely talk about something else. With a few – like Crowley, Garth, Gadreel and Meg – Cas is able to talk factually about it, but there are some students – like Charlie – who are getting a little anxious.

 

“What if I _fail_?“

 

Cas has lost count of how many times Charlie has already asked this question.

 

“Charlie, _for God's sake_ , shut up. You won't fail.“

 

Cas also doesn't know anymore how often someone has already told Charlie this – even though it doesn't calm her down, at all.

 

And he doesn't know himself how to feel. He's nervous because of the exams, but also because of all the plans the others are making, or more specifically, _have already made_. Right. They already have plans.

 

Castiel doesn't.

 

It's like the time is running through his fingers, far too quickly for his liking. Every minute, he's reminded of the fact that it's _wasted time_ , because he isn't doing something. Of course, he's studying for the exams. But he isn't so sure if he also studied, when his friends wouldn't make him do it. To be honest, he's not really motivated. Why would he be? He hasn't made any plans. He has absolutely no idea what he's going to do when he finished school. He isn't working towards something. Where is he supposed to get motivation from?

 

But nevertheless, he tries to calm Charlie down, when she gets too anxious, and he encourages all his friends to go after their dreams and goals. In return, he sits down and listens to their plans, their dreams and their goals, while he's feeling more depressed day by day.

 

What is he doing with his life? What does he _want_ to do with his life? What are his plans, his dreams, his goals?

 

He doesn't know.

 

He doesn't know, he doesn't know, he doesn't know. And it pisses him off.

 

But he doesn't tell anyone. He doesn't tell anyone about how he feels, because he doesn't want to make the others sad. They are so excited. Soon, they'll be done with school and go to college or make road trips or whatever. They are looking forward to whatever the future holds for them. Castiel has lost this ability a long time ago.

 

Since his friends are determined to get him to learn, they're planning kind of sleepovers. They are basically going to spend every weekend at a different house, studying with each other and preparing for the exams, and the one who's hosting has to provide them with food. Usually, the parents are the ones who take care of the food.

 

Charlie's mom will make her excellent casseroles, Benny's mom will make her famous burgers and Kevin's mom will make cupcakes among other things. Though, Kevin is not a senior, but he still helps them to study.

 

Tomorrow is the first weekend they're going to spend just studying. Charlie told him about it yesterday, being happy because Dorothy is going to be there as well. But she's also kinda mad, because Benny is going to spend the weekend with Madison.

 

“This is something important. I mean, yeah sure, we still have a few weeks, but still! I'll spend time with my girlfriend as well, but I'll also start to study. Why can't he just bring Madison, too?“ she has complained.

 

Cas has just shrugged his shoulders. He didn't know what to say. On the one hand, he is able to understand Charlie; on the other hand, he isn't able to. So, he just waited until she was done ranting and calmed her down again, giving her some chocolate.

 

For him, school has become... kinda boring? It's just that they are finished with the learning material and only repeat everything again and again. Cas gets _why_ they are doing this. What he doesn't get is why some students _still don't know anything_. Alastair is the only exception. Alastair has already had to repeat a year and nobody thinks that he's going to graduate this year either, not even he himself. But Alastair also doesn't care about that.

 

Castiel never understood Alastair. He doesn't even want to understand him. Alastair is just sick. He hates him – they hate each other – and he doesn't want to think about him too much.

 

Maybe he'd rather concentrate on the English lesson, a little bit at least. Mr. Wyatt shall not talk himself blue in the face for nothing.

 

Cas looks down on his notepad, chewing on the inside of his cheek, since he didn't really take any notes. He looks to his right and is surprised when his eyes meet Dean's, even though he shouldn't be surprised anymore. Dean often stares at him. Cas often stares at Dean. This is how things are between them lately. They still talk to each other every day, maybe even a little bit more. Cas tries not to think about it but it scares him, because he has no idea where they're going, or where he wants them to go.

 

Dean writes something on his notepad, sliding it towards Castiel, so he can read the words. Cas has already noticed that Dean's handwriting is messy, but readable. He likes it. It fits Dean.

 

_What are you thinking about?_

 

Was it so obvious that he's lost in thought the past few minutes? Or is Dean already able to read his mind, just like his friends can? Hopefully not.

 

He shrugs his shoulders and then writes two words beneath Dean's question.

 

_Nothing special._

 

He sees how Dean presses his lips together, then he shrugs his shoulders as well. Cas looks at Mr. Wyatt, wondering whether or not he should tell Dean what he was thinking about. He decides against it, because he didn't even tell his friends. And Dean is... well, Cas doesn't know what he is. And they stopped talking about personal stuff, so why should he bring up his worries about his future?

 

After the lesson, Cas catches Dean in the hallway before he leaves the school to meet Sam outside, like he does every day.

 

“Hey,” Cas says and feels stupid, since they have seen each other like 30 seconds ago and just sat next to each other for an hour and a half.

 

“Hey,” Dean replies nevertheless, a small smile playing on his lips.

 

“We are going to start studying together on the weekend. For the finals, you know. And I wondered if you liked to join us?“

 

Dean stares at him for a few seconds. “Who is _we_?“

 

“Me and a few of my friends.“

 

“Benny?“ Dean asks, and Cas knows he's asking this because Benny and he get along very well. A sinking feeling settles in his stomach and he shakes his head. “No, Benny won't be there.“

 

Dean bites his lip and runs his fingers through his hair, and Cas isn't able to avoid thinking that it looks _sexy_. He swallows, looking around and watching the other students, as if he cared about them. _Fuck._

 

The sinking feeling intensifies and Cas thinks he might get a headache. He shouldn't think that Dean is sexy; bad enough he thinks that Dean is beautiful. But he can't think like _that_ about Dean.

 

“So, what do you say?“ he asks, staring at the wall behind Dean.

 

“I'm sorry, but this isn't my thing, so...,“

 

“What? Studying?“

 

Dean huffs a little. “Yeah.“

 

“What about the exams?“ Cas wonders.

 

Dean adjusts the strap of his backpack on his shoulder. “Sammy will get me to study at some time, I think.“

 

Cas chuckles, looking at Dean. “Okay, then.“

 

Dean leaves and Cas just can't wait for finally being done with school for good, even though he doesn't know what he's going to do then.

 

Saturday afternoon, they meet at Charlie's house, spreading themselves out in the living room. They study for a few hours, provided with lemonade and candy, before Charlie's mother tells them that dinner is ready. As always, her pasta bake is exquisite and as always, Gabriel goes back for seconds – twice. Castiel allows himself to relax in the company of his friends, trying to avoid thinking about Dean and that the green-eyed boy isn't there. But he figures that it wouldn't have gone well anyway, with Dean and Gadreel being in the same room for so long, as he watches how Charlie and Dorothy feed each other with small pieces of the pasta bake.

 

Charlie looks so happy. And Cas is happy for her, he really is. She's one of the best friends he's ever had; of course he's happy for her now that she has Dorothy as her girlfriend. But still, when they're sitting all together in the living room again, later that night, surrounded by textbooks, notepads and all the flashcards they made, Cas feels his mood change. Suddenly, he's feeling sad. It's that sinking feeling in his stomach again, like he felt when Dean told him he didn't want to come – just deeper, more pronounced, more persisting. _More permanently._ It settles in his guts, squashing between his organs, pressing against his ribcage. He gulps, rubbing one hand over his side as if he hoped that the feeling would go away then.

 

He stares at his friends, feeling weird and sad and empty – because... _because why?_ Because of them? No, not exactly. Because they have a lot of plans and he doesn't have any plans. Maybe it's because, when he looks at them he can see a future, _their_ futures, but when he thinks about himself he doesn't see a future. At least, not a promising one.

 

Cas is sitting on the couch with crossed legs, looking around at his friends.

 

He looks at Gabriel, laughing and holding a lollipop between two fingers while he reads a paragraph in a textbook, sitting in an armchair. He doesn't know what exactly Gabriel is going to do after school, but he knows that Gabriel will be happy. He's always optimistic, sarcasm is his middle name and he resonates with confidence. He will continue wearing those awkward Hawaiian shirts and somehow he won't look as awkward wearing them as others would. He will continue to be serious only in absolute serious situations and otherwise, he will continue to tell as many dirty jokes as he can.

 

Next to him, on a pillow on the floor, sits Kevin, pressing his eyebrows together while writing some more math formulas down. Castiel just knows that this kid is going to go places. He will go to college in two years and maybe in ten years from now, he already will be a successful math professor. Who knows? Or maybe Kevin will be president some day. Either way, his mother will always be proud of him, just like she already is. And Cas is also proud of Kevin. He knows very well that Kevin's life has changed completely in the last three and a half years. He remembers the day when he saved him from Alastair, Cole, Ruby and Malachi. He saw Kevin every day and every day he got beaten up, pushed into lockers and walls and on the ground, and they also stole his money or his food or just his school stuff. One day, Cas just snapped and he beat the shit out of Cole, because the others were clever enough to just run, especially because two teachers were already on the way over to them. But Cas didn't stop and since especially that day he has his reputation. Since that day, Alastair and his group hate him. Since that day, he belongs to his friends. Since that day, Cole is more than just afraid of him, what's the reason why he ran away as fast as possible after he pulled him away from Dean the other day. A small smile touches the corners of his mouth at the thought.

 

He looks at Charlie and Dorothy who are sitting together in the other armchair, huddled up to one another, and Charlie looks over her Biology flashcards while Dorothy just stares at her, occasionally playing with a strand of Charlie's red hair or kissing her on the cheek. And Charlie smiles happily. Maybe Castiel only realizes right now that Charlie is truly in love for the first time. He knows that she and Dorothy applied to the same college and already got accepted. Yeah, Charlie will be happy as well.

 

Gadreel and Crowley are sitting on the couch with Castiel. He looks at Gadreel who sits on his left, a pillow on his crossed legs and a notepad on top of it. Chemistry is his weakest class, but if he's able to pass it with a _C_ , he'll be more than happy. He told Cas that he already has an apprenticeship place in a health club. He also told him that he will try to smoke less, what surprised Cas a little bit. After all, it was Gadreel with whom he smoked his first cigarette, when he was 15 years old. But nevertheless, he's also proud of Gadreel. He knows that Gadreel doesn't like Dean and as always, Castiel values his opinion and he will continue to value it. Gadreel will be happy as well.

 

Crowley is last. Castiel stares at the Brit for a few moments, how he squints at the flashcards in his lap, and Cas sighs internally. Unlike Charlie and Dorothy, Crowley won't go to the college in the neighboring town – he will go to New York. Castiel hopes that they will continue to be friends, even though the distance is going to suck. But maybe they can visit each other and Cas knows that it's Crowley's dream to go to New York. He supports him and he knows that Crowley will also be happy.

 

He stares at the opened Biology textbook in his lap, but the words become blurred when he tries to read them. So, he just stares at the illustration of the human heart on the right page and pretends to memorize how the heart functions, until Charlie's mother comes into the living room around 1 am, telling them that it's enough for today.

 

She helps them pack their things and Castiel listens absentmindedly to Charlie as she explains another _Harry_ _Potter_ headcanon to Dorothy, while they walk to her mother's car. As nice as she is, she offered to drive them home. Since there's not enough space, Charlie and Dorothy, who sleeps at Charlie's place again, stay at home. Castiel hugs them both before he gets into the car. Maybe he hugged Charlie a little bit tighter than necessary, due to all his worries and also his fears of loss, because she looks weirdly at him after they pull away. Her eyes are asking if he's okay and he shrugs his shoulders halfheartedly, nodding.

 

The whole drive home and also later when he lies in his bed, he's thinking that he's far too young to have a midlife crisis, but here he is – _again_. What do you call this then? _A quarterlife crises?_ God, he's only 18 years old. He shakes his head and lies on his side, pulling the covers tighter around his body. It's April and although it's getting slowly warmer, the temperatures were low today again. So, typical April weather. It even drizzled this morning, but then the clouds scattered only to come together again, later on.

 

If he turned around and looked out of his window, he would see the clouds. But he doesn't want to; if the clouds weren't there and there were stars instead, maybe then he'd turn around, but he's also really tired right now. He stares at the wall and slips into a dreamless sleep, faster than he thought he would.

 

It seems as if Castiel just blinked and then it's suddenly already in late April. Really, it's strange.

 

It's also strange that he feels like he's in a good mood and in a bad mood at the same time. He wonders if that's actually possible, wandering through the hallways to his locker, because he needs the textbook for his next class and he forgot to put it in his backpack this morning.

 

“Hey, Cas!“

 

He puts the textbook into his backpack, trying to hide his smile as Dean comes closer. Since the incident with Cole, Dean calls him _Cas_. The first time, after Castiel helped him up and Dean introduced him to Sam, it was an accident and Dean was visibly flustered. He corrected himself immediately, probably hoping that Cas didn't notice it. But Cas _did_ hear it and he hoped that neither Dean nor Sam noticed how fast his heart was beating.

 

The next time they saw each other, after spring break, Dean called him _Cas_ again and Cas didn't say anything against it, so Dean did it again and again. Why would Castiel say something against it anyway? He _likes_ it. It sounds different when Dean calls him _Cas_.

 

“Hey,” he says now, only smiling a bit. “What's up?“

 

“I wanted to ask you something,” Dean starts, leaning against the locker next to Cas'.

 

Castiel nods, showing Dean that he can continue. Dean returns his smile.

 

“Do you know any places here where the food's good and relatively cheap?“

 

Cas presses his eyebrows together, closing his locker and staring at Dean in surprise. “Why?“ he asks, licking his lips.

 

“Well, because I don't know any places here where the food's good and relatively cheap.“ Dean chuckles a bit. “I didn't really have the chance or the money to try something out just for fun lately,” he admits.

 

“But now you do?“ Cas wonders, without thinking about if he's allowed to ask such a question. But Dean just shrugs. “I'm afraid I have to.“

 

Castiel swallows. _I'm afraid I have to._ Why? It's nagging at his insides and for a moment, he doesn't even know why. And then a memory hits him.

 

_Jealousy looks good on you._

 

Fuck. Fucking shit. No. No, he's _not_ jealous. So, what? Maybe Dean has a date and that's why he is asking where the food's good and relatively cheap here in this town. Castiel shouldn't care about that. He shouldn't worry about that. _Maybe it's Anna_ , the voice in his head whispers and he stares at his plain black backpack. Fuck, he just has to know.

 

“Why?“ he asks again, looking at Dean, who seems confused for a second. Then the green-eyed boy laughs. “Oh, it's just that Sammy's birthday is soon, on May 2nd, and I want to do something with him. Something kinda special. You know, what I'm able to afford at least.“

 

_Oh..._

 

_Oh! Fuck._

 

Suddenly, Castiel feels so goddamn stupid. He thought... fucking shit, he thought that Dean had a date with _someone else_ and it fucking bothered him? Seriously? What the fuck is wrong with him? It doesn't have to bother him. It really, really _shouldn't_ bother him. But somehow it does and he's mad at himself once again.

 

He forces a small laugh out of his mouth and tries to relax again. He mirrors Dean, leaning against his closed locker, placing his backpack at his feet.

 

“What?“ Dean asks, staring at him, amazed. Cas shakes his head. “I do know a place where you could go with Sam.“

 

“Really?“

 

“Yeah, Pamela's diner. She's a friend of mine and her food is really good and you don't need a lot of money. I'm sure Sam will love it there. And you will, too.“

 

“That sounds great,” Dean says, relieved and glad. Cas feels the same, but for different reasons. He's relieved and glad because Dean doesn't have a date with someone else. He wonders what he would do, how he would feel, if Dean actually had a date with someone. He wants to tell himself that he doesn't know, but deep down he does know and he hates it. _He would be jealous._

 

He swallows. He wants to hear Dean's voice again to distract himself from his thoughts, even though he isn't sure if Dean is the right person for that. But still, he has to try it. So he asks the first question that comes to his mind, without thinking about it.

 

“How old will Sam be?“

 

“He's turning 14. We're four years apart.“

 

Castiel doesn't know what he expected – probably rather nothing. But Dean's answer scratches at the wall in his mind – the wall he so desperately tries to maintain in place. The noise it causes is loud. Screeching. Lasting. Cas thought that the wall is strong enough by now. Sure, after Dean called him a faggot, there was a crack in the wall, but he was able to fix that again. But now it seems like the wall is made of glass and the slightest tapping is enough to shatter it.

 

_He's turning 14._

 

Cas' head starts to swim. No, no, no. But there are already cracks in the wall once again.

 

_Happy birthday, Castiel! Now, you are 14. Isn't that great?_

 

Fuck.

 

He tries to look at Dean, his brow furrowed, and he sees Dean's lips move, but he can't hear what he's saying. “What?“ he asks weakly.

 

“Hey man, you're okay? You're looking pale.“ This time he hears Dean's words, even if they're still indistinct. He also hears the concern in Dean's voice, but he isn't able to comprehend the meaning of the words. He doesn't know what Dean's asking, doesn't know what to answer. Fucking hell, he can't _breathe_.

 

He can't fucking breathe. The air doesn't seem to reach his lungs anymore or maybe something is squeezing his lungs. Weirdly, he does know what's going on with him – he's having an anxiety attack. But he probably only knows what's going on, because he knows far too well what that feels like.

 

He only notices that he's shaking, when his entire body is already trembling and his vision blurs. He doesn't even know how he's able to keep standing. With shaky hands, he rubs his eyes and runs his fingers through his hair, forgetting for a few seconds that Dean is standing right in front of him, watching him with worried eyes.

 

“Cas?“ Dean asks, reaching out one hand to grab Castiel's shoulder, maybe to prevent him from falling over, but Cas doesn't even think about this possibility. All he thinks about is that he isn't able to stand someone touching him right now. He slaps Dean's hand, when it's mere inches away from his body, and takes a step back.

 

“Don't fucking touch me,” he hisses.

 

And then he does what he's best at and what he always does – _he runs away._

 

He doesn't notice that he grabs his backpack, turns around and runs until he's outside and already crossed half of the schoolyard. He doesn't think about that it's only the first break and that he has other classes today. Hell, he doesn't even care about that. He only moves his feet as quickly as he can, dodging a few passersby along the way, but not even looking for cars when he crosses the street. A part of him wishes that a car would hit him, but the wish is ungranted. He makes it home; his hands are still shaking and it takes a while to cram the key into the lock. By the time, he's finally inside the house, he feels dizzy more than ever.

 

A tiny part of his brain reminds him that Lucifer isn't there, but rather working and he's glad. He doesn't want his brother to see him like that – _once again_. He can't do this to Lucifer again. And the reason why this is happening seems so small and insignificant, that it's almost downright _ridiculous_ what a fuss he's making. But it isn't small and insignificant, not to Castiel. If it were, he wouldn't have this huge fucking anxiety attack right now.

 

 _Thank God Lucifer isn't there_ , he thinks, since he barely makes it to his room. Cas doesn't even close the door, though he wants to but his hand misses it, and he just collapses on the floor.

 

He's on his knees at first and then he doubles up with pain. His forehead hits the dusty wooden floor and his hands clutch at his head, tearing at his hair. He's pulling at his dark, messy strands until his scalp is sore and his head throbs. But it doesn't help, because the fucking wall in his fucking head just fucking broke and it's exactly like a broken dam, just that there's no water flooding his brain but memories.

 

Once again. So many fucking memories.

 

And he wonders why the hell Sam Winchester has to turn 14 just now and why the hell he bothered to ask Dean how old Sam is turning at all.

 

_Make it stop. Please._

 

He doesn't even know who he's addressing, but he does know that there's no one who could make it stop. He just wants it to stop. It fucking _hurts_. Fucking hell. He can't breathe. He can't fucking breathe. _Why are his lungs so fucking useless?_

 

Castiel tries to compensate the pain on the inside by hurting himself on the outside, as he always does. He's scraping at the skin on his neck with his fingernails, knowing it will be red soon and there'll probably be marks. But although he knows that no amount of physical pain will cover the pain on the inside, he just has to try it at least, _anything_ if he'll just be able to breathe normally again. He just wants to be able to breathe.

 

Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

 

Why does this have to happen? Cas swallows hard, but there's a lump in his throat and he just sobs and sobs and sobs. His throat hurts and he licks his lips dryly. He doesn't cry. There are no tears, and he doesn't even know why. But he can't find it in him to care about that right now.

 

Because he remembers his own 14th birthday and everything that happened before and after it. All those _events_ , small and big, that fucked up his life even more – as if it wasn't already fucked up enough after his mother died of breast cancer when he was only nine years old.

 

His skin feels too thin and too tight, and there's an odd tingling in his fingertips. It takes him about five minutes until he realizes it's because he's holding on to his trenchcoat – that he hasn't even taken off – too tightly. His hands are clenched into fists, his knuckles are white, his fingernails are digging into his palms through the thin material of the trenchcoat. He slowly breathes out, his lungs feel unsteady, and then he releases the tension out of his hands, at least. He gulps, his throat ripples, and he has to cough.

 

It feels like hours, but it's probably just a few minutes Castiel needs until he sits up; he's moving very cautiously. He's afraid if he moves too fast, the wall in his head will falter even more and he doesn't want even more memories flowing through his mind.

 

It takes him another minute to put his head between his knees, finally trying to calm down. He's breathing shakily and he can't hold his hands still, since they're still shaking. He reminds himself to breathe – in, out, in, out – until it's relatively even. Cas closes his eyes for a few seconds, shaking his head and regretting that movement immediately, since the memories in his mind are like shards, leaving new cuts and tearing open old wounds. And then _green_ flashes through his head.

 

Dean.

 

Cas presses the palms of his hands to his eyes until he sees dots that blur his vision, when he opens his eyes again. God, Dean has looked _so hurt_ , when Cas slapped his hand away, when Cas didn't want him to touch him, when Cas told him _again_ not to fucking touch him. He has stared at Cas with big, round _green_ eyes, a pained expression on his face.

 

Castiel swallows, concentrating on his breathing once more. He stares blankly at the wall, one minute, five minutes, ten minutes, fifteen minutes. With every passing second, he can feel himself going a little bit more numb, until his skin is prickling uncomfortably. He doesn't move. He can't move.

 

Just what did he think he's doing?

 

Why did he even allow himself to feel and think about Dean like _this_? What the fuck did he think he's doing? Or even better, _why didn't he think at all_?

 

He's sitting on the floor, completely quiet and not moving, but in his head he's screaming at himself. The words and the guilt get tangled up with all the memories that are still resting in his brain, and he knows that he has to put all the shit back behind the wall and that he has to rebuild it again. He is going to cut himself on all the shards, since they're slippery from all the guilt. He isn't sure, if he'll be able to do that. But he has to.

 

Absentmindedly, he fiddles with the hem of his sweater, feeling so heavy and so empty at the same time. With glassy eyes he looks around his room, but he doesn't take anything in. He runs his fingers through his hair; his scalp is still tingling from pulling at his hair too fiercely earlier.

 

His fingers touch his forehead and his cheeks and lips. His face is dry, because he didn't start crying. He doesn't feel like crying. His eyes aren't filled with tears and there's no burning at the back of his throat or in his nose. For now, he won't start crying.

 

Suddenly, Castiel feels foolish.

 

He's such a fucking idiot. He actually _likes_ Dean. He likes talking to him, he likes to see him smile, to hear him laugh, to hear him talk. He thinks Dean is beautiful and smart and funny, and so much more than the bad boy he's trying to be. He thinks he is able to see behind this mask Dean puts on every day, and Dean is always on his mind, one way or another. And he feels _comfortable_ and _happy_ around Dean, when he sees him and when he hears his wonderful deep voice. It's so ridiculous and foolish and just plain stupid.

 

Now, he can admit to himself that he has _a goddamn crush_ on Dean Winchester.

 

Fuck. Why the hell did he allow _that_ to happen?

 

He even thought about kissing Dean. He _wanted_ to kiss Dean. He _wanted_ to feel his lips against his own, to feel Dean's body against his own. A quiver runs down his spine and he shakes his head.

 

He got so happy, when Dean started to call him _Cas_. Stupid. So fucking stupid.

 

This has to stop. All of that. Right now.

 

He can't have a crush on Dean, he can't like Dean, he can't think about Dean like that.

 

Castiel presses his hands on the floor, bringing himself to get up. He feels dizzy and his legs are shaking, and he kind of wishes to pass out, because of what he's going to do now. But he forces himself to stumble into the bathroom, locking the door behind him, just in case Lucifer comes home early.

 

He slumps against the door for a moment, closing his eyes and holding his breath for a few seconds. Cas bites his lip, hard, but not hard enough for it to start bleeding. Then he releases his breath through his nose, pulling himself together as best he can. He has to do this.

 

Slowly, he walks in front of the mirror that hangs on the wall above the sink, his eyes are fixed on the white and blue tiles on the floor. He needs a few minutes, but then he raises his head and looks in the mirror.

 

He's still shaking, but he examines his face. His bottom lip is red, because he bit it too hard, and it's a weird contrast to his pale skin. Normally, he isn't pale. His face and his neck are tanned, and the rest of his body would be too, if he showed it to the sun in the summer. He grits his teeth and looks his reflection in the eye. Castiel has gotten a lot of compliments for his pretty blue eyes, but since _they_ complimented him on them, he doesn't want to hear something like that anymore. Now, his eyes look tiredly back at him, the blue has no edge anymore.

 

Cas hates it to look in the mirror. He hates it with all his heart, because he hates what he's seeing when he does. Usually, he avoids to look in the mirror, especially when he's undressed, but now he considers it necessary. So he forces himself to do it.

 

Because he has to stop thinking about Dean. He has to stop liking Dean.

 

His mind told him to stop _for weeks_ , but he didn't listen to it and now he realizes it's been right all along. It's wrong and he shouldn't do it anymore.

 

 _And let's be real!_ What did he even expect? He knows for sure why it would have never worked between him and Dean, if ever something happened between them. His past... his past is the reason why he's this unstable person that's barely able to function normally. What did he imagine? A _relationship_ with Dean? That's the furthest from what is realistic. Castiel has to be realistic. He has to think rationally now. He can't strike up a relationship with Dean, or with anyone. He knows that it doesn't work. He knows all the reasons why it will never work. He just has to remind himself of them again. It has to click, so he stops thinking about Dean and can forget about this stupid crush.

 

Castiel hesitates for a few seconds, because he hasn't done this _for ages_ , and he also really doesn't want to do this now, but he has to. It's much needed.

 

Slowly, with trembling fingers, he takes off the trenchcoat and lets it fall to the floor. A small weird sound escapes his lips, but it's almost inaudible. He ignores it. He ignores that his lips start to quiver and he ignores that his hands are shaking so much that he's almost not able to pull his sweater over his head. When he finally manages to do that, he lets it fall onto the ground as well.

 

He has closed his eyes without noticing it, and now Cas is scared to open them. He doesn't want to. He really doesn't want to. He doesn't want to see himself, to see his bare torso. He tells himself that he has to do that. He has to get over this stupid crush that he has on Dean Winchester, because he can't have a crush on this guy. He just can't. He knows why he can't. _Come on_ , he tells himself, _come on, just get it over with. You know that this is the right thing to do._

 

The right thing... yeah, this is necessary.

 

Cas opens his eyes, blinking at his reflection and sucking in a breath. He clenches his fists. For a moment, the world stops and all Cas feels are the goosebumps on his skin – apparently Lucifer already turned off the heater.

 

And then the realization hits him. It's blunt and he has been there before.

 

The moment he truly understood that his mother is dead and that she won't come back. The moment he realized that he's queer and the moment he realized that his father will never accept him for who he is. The moment he realized that he's cruelly lost both his parents. His mother's dead, not there anymore; and his father's there, but out of reach as well. The moment he understood he wasn't a careless child anymore, on the day of his mother's funeral. The moment he lost his innocence and something inside of him broke, maybe even worse than after his mother died, when those two men took what wasn't theirs. The moment a razor blade touched his skin for the first time and he knew he couldn't go back. And all these other moments, when depression and anxiety ate away at him, ruining his teenage years that were supposed to be one of the best times of his life.

 

Now is the moment where he realizes that Dean doesn't know him. Not really. He hasn't _seen_ Cas and he doesn't know about his past and all the dark, dark thoughts in his head. And if he did, he wouldn't stay. He wouldn't even want to look at Castiel. Dean would turn around and run away from him as fast as possible. Maybe Dean seems interested right now, but if he knew the truth about him, he would want to get away from him and never speak to him ever again.

 

Castiel is convinced of that, especially because he's seeing himself in the mirror right now. And god, how much he wishes he'd just see the tattoos on his skin.

 

Swallowing, he runs his fingertips over his arms, barely gracing his skin. There's only one word in his mind – _disgusting_. His body, what his skin looks like, is disgusting. He, Castiel, is disgusting.

 

He looks away, and now there are tears forming in his eyes, and he tries to swallow all the feelings and thoughts down, since there's already nausea pooling in his stomach, wanting to climb up his throat. Fuck fuck fuck. If he throws up now, the memories in his head will be even clearer, and then he'll throw up again and then he'll definitely start to cry.

 

Anxiety scrapes at the back of his mind. He looks down on his arms, and suddenly he's in another bathroom, where all the tiles are just white, or they were before the blade collided with his skin.

 

Castiel yanks himself back to here and now, gripping the sink and watching his knuckles turn white. Fuck. He closes his eyes, fighting against the urge to throw up, because if he throws up, he will remember how it felt to lie on that dirty mattress in the tiny storage room of the liquor store, because _they_ couldn't wait anymore to touch him and they didn't made it upstairs. He will remember how it felt to throw up back then, his body aching everywhere where they've touched him – and they've touched him _everywhere_ – and how it felt to lie there in his own pool of vomit, not being able to move since he was still pumped full of whatever they gave him in the back of their van.

 

He lets go of the sink and digs his nails into the skin on his lower arms, knowing very well that all the scars there and on the rest of his body will stay forever. He feels dirty and used, but he also knows that a shower won't help. He wishes he'd go numb again, but he doesn't. Suddenly, he's just tired. His arms dangle beside his body, too heavy to use, and he doesn't pick up his trenchcoat or his sweater, when he leaves the bathroom.

 

He's barely able to get out of his pants and into a t-shirt and sweatpants, and when he crawls into bed, hugging a pillow to his chest to get rid of the tension there (of course, it doesn't work, though), he just feels so drained. But he still doesn't cry.

 

When he hears Dean's voice in his head, he clenches his fists.

 

_He's turning 14. We're four years apart._

 

Again, the memories are moving, wanting his attention, and he feels phantom pain all over his body. He presses his face into a pillow until he doesn't get enough air into his lungs.

 

Castiel knows that Sam Winchester's 14th birthday will be nice, because Dean will do his best, for that reason alone. And Sam's 14th birthday will be so different than Castiel's had been. But still, the memories keep coming, keep cutting, keep tearing open his scars and he hates it, and he hates himself.

 

The tears only come when he promises himself, when he _makes the oath_ to no longer speak to Dean and to tell him that he should leave him alone for good.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“I would sing if I could, but I don't want to scare my other guests away, so I let it alone,” Pamela laughs, putting the apple pie on the table and between Dean and Sam. “This,” she points at the pie, “is on the house.“

 

Dean looks at her in amazement. “What?“

 

“It's on the house,” Pamela repeats. “It's Sam's birthday!“

 

Sam's smile widens even more. Since they sat down at a table by a window, he hasn't stopped smiling. A reason why is definitely the woman standing next to their table.

 

Pamela – who insists that they call her Pamela and certainly not _Ms._ or _Ms. Barnes_ – is a dark-haired woman, full of energy, sass, joy and laughter. She is clearly beautiful and one of the nicest people Dean's ever met. To be honest, he's a little overwhelmed by how friendly she is towards them, even though they only met today. But Sam is happy, he's actually glowing with happiness and he's smiling, and Dean is just relieved.

 

More than anything, he wanted Sam to have a nice 14th birthday. And so far it is working, thank god.

 

Sam's eyes are still shining, when they leave the diner. Pamela pulled them both into a hug when they said farewell, and Dean was too stunned to hug her back, but she didn't say anything about it and just smiled at him.

 

It's late in the evening, and the first stars start to sparkle above them. The sky is clear, no clouds are in sight. It's May 2nd and slowly, the summer is coming along, putting out feelers to the world. The air is getting warmer day by day, soon it will be warm enough to just wear a t-shirt, even at night. The ice cream will melt while they're still trying to eat it. The sun will burn their skin and heat up the asphalt and every car that's not parked among the shadows. It will be pleasant to walk through the forest. The trees are already green again, flowers are growing everywhere. Dean loves summer, for the mere fact that his mother died in November – winter.

 

When it's hot outside, temperatures going up and up, it's hard to remember the details, like the snow on the window sills, on the streets, on the cars, on the rooftops. It's hard to remember the icy air that was such a contrast to the heat of the fire.

 

Dean shudders. He doesn't want to think about that night, about his mother and her death. It's Sammy's birthday, after all.

 

His little brother is smiling at him and when they turn into their street, he thanks Dean for an awesome birthday. Dean returns the smile, sighing gladly. Sam had an awesome birthday. That's all that matters for now.

 

And while they're walking home, he's able to pretend for a little while longer that Sam is a normal, happy little kid on his birthday, like there are many out there.

 

John is in his room, when they come back. Dean closes quietly the front door behind them before they sneak upstairs. They get ready for bed; they stayed longer at Pamela's diner than planned, the atmosphere there was just too amazing and they both were glad to get out a little. They haven't really seen a lot of the new town, even though they live here for a while already. What's the point in getting to know the town, when they are going to move away again anyway? Even though, it would really suck, if they moved now, because finals are going to start in about two weeks. But Dean doesn't think they will move soon. John still has his job, against all the odds. Maybe he'll be able to keep it a few weeks longer. Dean just wants to graduate and after that he won't care anymore, if they moved again.

 

They go to Sam's room. Dean wants to sleep there tonight. All day, he tried to spend as much time with Sammy and thinking about him and his birthday. He hoped that Sam would distract him enough not to think about Castiel, and most of the time, it has worked.

 

But Sam falls asleep at some point and Dean glares surly at the dark ceiling.

 

_Don't fucking touch me._

 

Dean clenches his fists under the blanket, biting his lip. These words are haunting him for a week now.

 

_Don't fucking touch me._

 

He hasn't even touched Cas – and he remembers far too well the incident before the bar, when he grabbed Castiel's shoulder and turned him around and Cas punched him in the face. One week ago, he already remembered this incident, that's the reason why he hasn't touched Cas. He just put out his hand, so he'd be able to support Cas if necessary, since he looked like he would faint at any moment.

 

And then Cas just ran away and Dean hasn't seen him for the rest of the day. He was worried about Cas. Meg even came to him in one of the breaks to ask, if he had seen Cas, because he just fucking disappeared. Dean was anxious. He didn't know where Castiel went – now, he assumes he just went home, but who knows? – and he didn't know why Castiel ran away in the first place.

 

He still doesn't know.

 

The next day, Cas was at school again, still pale in the face, his hair even wilder than usual, his eyes and his voice blunt and tired, but still looking gorgeous. But that didn't make anything better.

 

Castiel was – and still is – behaving differently towards Dean. He's cold, dismissive and harsh. When he looks at him and talks to him, what didn't happen very often lately, Castiel's jaw is set and his ocean blue eyes are frozen again. Dean hates the frozen ocean, because the ice seems thicker than ever before and somehow he knows that it isn't going to shatter again. Castiel Novak completely withdrew from him. Dean can't read the emotions on Cas' face anymore, because Cas refuses to show them to him. Dean liked to say that Castiel's face is neutral whenever they met in the hallways the past days, but really, it's more unapproachable than anything. Everything – the way Castiel behaves, the way he talks, his whole body language – is telling Dean that Cas chooses _to_ _hate_ him all of a sudden.

 

And Dean doesn't even know why, since Castiel didn't bother to explain it to him.

 

He has tried to talk to Cas a few times, but either the blue-eyed boy ignored him completely, or he told him in the most rugged way _that Dean should leave him the fuck alone_.

 

Dean just wants to understand it. Is it him? Is it something he did? If so, where did he go wrong? What did he do? Why did Castiel just stop to talk to him?

 

He has even asked Benny to talk to Castiel for him. But Benny came to him afterwards, shrugging his shoulders and adjusting that old fisherman hat on his head that he always wears, telling Dean that Castiel has blocked all questions rigorously.

 

Dean is frustrated and he misses to talk with Castiel. He misses _Cas_.

 

He tries to focus on the fact that Sam had a nice birthday today once again. But he still has to think about Cas, since it was Castiel who recommended Pamela's diner to him. Dean shakes his head and exhales slowly. He ignores Sam's light snoring and looks at his little brother. Sam had a nice birthday. That's worth something, right?

 

Sure, John has just completely ignored the fact that it was Sam's 14th birthday, but after the disaster that was Dean's birthday in January, they didn't expect anything else. But maybe because of this, Dean has felt the desire to make Sam's birthday even more wonderful.

 

 _Wonderful_ is a stupid word, but it's the first that comes to his mind. Sam mumbles in his sleep and then turns around, facing the wall and having his back to Dean now. And Dean wishes he could just sleep as well. But for the life of him, he can close his eyes as often as he wants, he doesn't fall asleep. It pisses him off. He swallows and starts to go over today in his head again.

 

This morning, he has made breakfast for him and Sam – John slept and he didn't get up before they left the house to go to school. Sam got a cool new pocket knife from Dean – school went by in no time – and in the afternoon, they talked over the phone with Bobby. By late afternoon, or maybe it was more towards evening already, they went to Pamela's diner. The food was really good, especially the pie, and Sam had actually a very nice birthday, thanks to Dean.

 

At least, today he didn't fail, Dean thinks, his thoughts wandering off to Castiel again immediately. He sighs. It's so silly and foolish to lie here in bed and to think about _a_ _boy_. Meanwhile, Sam is sleeping deeply next to him and probably not even an earthquake could wake him up right now. And Castiel is still going around in Dean's head. _Shit._

 

Slowly but surely, he's getting annoyed with Castiel. It's not fair that Cas has just ditched him without a whimper. It's also not fair that he doesn't even bother to provide an explanation for that to him. And Dean thinks that Cas owes him an explanation – or at least, at first he did think that but suddenly he's not so sure about that anymore.

 

 _Does_ Castiel owe him an explanation? Dean starts to chew on the inside of his cheek. What are they anyway? Does Castiel actually owe him an explanation? Or can't he just do whatever the fuck he wants to do?

 

Dean huffs a breath. Well, if Cas can do whatever the fuck he wants, then he, Dean, can do whatever the fuck he wants to do as well.

 

And if Castiel Novak wants to be left alone, Dean thinks bitterly, _then he will leave Castiel Novak alone._

 

During the next days, Dean tries to ignore Cas the way Cas ignores him as best he can, and he doesn't try to talk to him again. He constantly has to remind himself that Castiel doesn't want to talk to him anyway, and that he wants to be left alone. But he's handling it _somehow_ , because he just has to, although it comes at a price. He's in a bad mood all the time, and it just gets worse and worse and worse. He fights with John, he's even out for it, and his dad obliges willingly, since he's drunk enough again. And Dean gets into a few struggles at school, and he's pleased when his fists connect with some faces and stomachs and when he sees small bruises littering his knuckles.

 

It happens on the next Tuesday. Some boy – Dean thinks his name might be Andrew – bumps into him and Dean knows that it was unintentionally, but in the moment after it happened the boy and he lock eyes and the boy looks scared, and in that exact moment, Dean just decides not to care about Castiel Novak anymore. And honestly, what did he expect what's going to happen between them anyway?

 

He drops his backpack to the ground, grabbing the boy's collar and pushing him against the next wall as hard as possible. The boy gasps when his back collides with the wall and the books he was holding slip out of his hands.

 

Dean is angry. He is mindlessly furious – at Cas, at himself, at this boy, at everyone and everything, and at nothing all at the same time. His grip on the boy's collar tightens and Andrew – if that's even his name, though Dean doesn't care about that – whimpers. He knows that this boy didn't do anything, but he also doesn't care about that. The boy is here, Dean is angry and he will take it out on him. Without thinking too much, he pushes the boy to the side, causing him to stumble and fall on the floor with a thump. “What the hell,” the boy mutters weakly, but before he can say anything else, Dean already dealt him a blow.

 

And when he lands punch after punch on the kid's face and upper body, he realizes that this is the only thing he's really good at – _hurting people._ He's good at punching and insulting other people. He's good at harming other people, he's good at making them feel bad about themselves. He's also really good at saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. He's really good at drowning in self-loathing and whiskey. He's good at breaking things and people. He's really good at ruining things. _He's good at being a bad person_.

 

So – why would _Castiel Novak_ even like him?

 

Dean doesn't even notice that there's a crowd, rallying round him and the boy. He only sees the people around him, when he hears distinct shouting from down the hallway, what sounds suspiciously like teachers making their way through the crowd. He is still full of rage, but he disappears before the teachers are there, just leaving the boy there on the floor.

 

He hurries outside and lights up a cigarette with numb fingers, even though the air around him is warm, taking long drags and closing his eyes. He pinches the bridge of his nose, gritting his teeth when he finishes the cigarette, knowing he has to go back inside the building. He stomps out the cigarette with the heel of his boot and contemplates if he should just skip his next class – English. _With Cas._ He doesn't want to see him and he wants to see him, and he tells himself that he hates Castiel Novak, clenching his fists and feeling the rage boiling in his veins once more. He wants to punch something again, he wants to punch _someone_ again, to hurt someone again – maybe even Castiel.

 

Dean sighs, craving another cigarette but still turning around, pushing the door open and entering the school building again.

 

He thought that he would lose his head, because of all the blind rage that's going to fill him when he sees Cas. But to his surprise, the contrary is the case. Dean enters the classroom just in time, and when he looks up, seeing Castiel in the back of the room, _it_ _calms him down_. The blue of Castiel's eyes calm him down; Cas is returning his gaze for a brief second before looking away. Dean sits down in the front row, thinking he should feel mad, seeing Cas sitting in the back row, being reminded of how Castiel stopped sitting next to him in class. But he isn't. And there's no urge inside of him anymore to punch something or someone right now.

 

But as soon as he's out of the classroom and Castiel storms past him and he doesn't have the blue ocean anymore to calm him down, he starts to scowl again. _And it just keeps getting better._

 

In the middle of his next class, his patience snaps. He can't focus anymore. The talking of the teacher annoys him and the chattering voices of his classmates annoy him even more, when they answer a question or whisper behind the teacher's back with their seatmate. So he raises his hand, just when the teacher is about to start another wordy explanation and asks if he could go to the bathroom.

 

He washes his hands too long, it's unnecessary and the water is too hot, burning his skin. His hands are already red and scarred and there are fresh new bruises and scratches. He turns off the water abruptly, grabbing a paper towel and drying his hands. He leaves the bathroom without looking in the mirror once.

 

Dean steps into the hallway, the door slowly closing behind him, and he wonders if he should go back to the classroom or not – what's the point anyway? But he stops dead, when he sees Alastair leaning against the lockers across from the bathroom. He's briefly asking himself why Alastair isn't in his class, but then again, does it really matter? Alastair is there and he's staring at Dean with his cold, eerie eyes as if Dean was a piece of meat. For a moment, he can just stare back at Alastair, back into those eyes and a shiver runs down his spine.

 

He remembers that he told Alastair he's not afraid of him. And this might be true, but still, Alastair is fucking creepy and Dean doesn't want to be alone with him. He intends to walk away and ignore Alastair, but then the guy starts to talk.

 

“Hi, Dean,” he says slowly, with his nasal voice. It's more than just unpleasant.

 

Dean looks warily at Alastair. He noticed that Alastair has watched him the last weeks, especially after the day Cole had attacked him. And since their first meeting, Dean is just waiting for Alastair to do something, because he had threatened him and Alastair doesn't seem like a guy who utters empty threats. But until now, Alastair didn't approach him again.

 

“What about you and Castiel?“ Alastair asks suddenly, an idly grin spreading on his face. “You're not talking with each other or hanging out with each other lately.“

 

Dean's anger grows with every word that comes out of Alastair's mouth. “Fuck off, Alastair. That's none of your business.“

 

“Why so rude, Dean? I'm just being curious and I noticed that something happened between you two.“ Alastair behaves unimpressed and shrugs his shoulders, never stopping to look at Dean with his cold eyes. He steps closer, tapping his fingertips against his thigh, sometimes slow, sometimes fast. The expression in his eyes changes slightly; it's still an unnerving and odd expression. But now, there's an hungry glow in his eyes that's making Dean feel uneasy and it's disturbing him.

 

Alastair is just super fucking creepy.

 

Dean exhales slowly and then starts to walk; he wants to go back to his classroom. But Alastair blocks his way, standing in front of him now. “You haven't answered my question, Dean, thus we're not done here.“ Alastair's voice is calm, but his fingertips are tapping impatiently against his thigh now.

 

This is silly and stupid, Dean thinks. Besides, Alastair is standing far too close for his liking, so Dean doesn't really think and just acts. He pushes Alastair away from him, both his hands connecting with Alastair's chest.

 

That backfires.

 

Alastair is a cranky guy, tall and lean, almost like Garth, but Garth isn't creepy like Alastair. However, Alastair is way faster and stronger than Dean expected him to be. He grabs Dean's right arm and turns it quickly onto his back before Dean has a chance to react. It's painful and there's a pop in Dean's shoulder and he grits his teeth, when Alastair shoves him against the lockers and his face hits the metal.

 

Dean squirms, but Alastair's grip just tightens and he pushes Dean's arm a little bit higher, increasing the pain in Dean's upper body. Alastair holds his other wrist against the cold metal as well and he presses right up behind Dean, who has to suppress the need to gag. This is disgusting – _Alastair_ is disgusting. He can feel his foul-smelling breath on his neck and clenches his jaw.

 

“Oh by the way, Dean, you can call me _Al_ ,” Alastair says, his lips brushing against his ear. “And now – what happened, Dean? Between you and Castiel, I mean? Did you have a little domestic?“ He chuckles lowly.

 

That's enough. Dean throws his head back and _Al_ is standing so close, he hits his upper jaw. Alastair yelps in surprise, loosening his grip on Dean and stepping back a bit, giving Dean the chance to kick his leg, hitting his shin with his work boot. Dean smiles an angry smile, because he knows that he just hurt Alastair.

 

Al's knee gives way and he stumbles to the side, finally letting go of Dean, who doesn't wait until Alastair has a chance to recover. Dean ignores the sharp pain on his head where he connected with Alastair's face, the spots where Al's fingernails dug into his skin and the throbbing pain in his shoulder. He just turns around, seeing Alastair standing slightly bent-forward and kneeing him in the guts. Al sucks in a sharp breath, but that's the only thing he can do before Dean pushes him away again and this time Alastair goes down.

 

Dean wants to kick him again, he wants to hurt Alastair as much as possible, venting his anger a little bit at least. But Alastair grabs his leg, causing him to fall down as well. Dean grunts when his head hits the floor and he sees how Alastair bobs up, anger convulsing his face, and he probably wants to lunge for Dean again.

 

But a loud _“Hey!“_ interrupts them.

 

It kind of reminds Dean how Cas saved his ass from Cole, when the douchebag attacked him. For a brief moment, he thinks it's Castiel again who's saving him, but it's just his Biology teacher.

 

“What do you think you're doing?“ the teacher asks, angry and irritated.

 

Dean swallows, still feeling his anger in every cell of his body. He doesn't need _Castiel_ _Novak_ to save him. He doesn't need the blue-eyed boy at all. He could have trounced Alastair on his own.

 

They have to follow the teacher to the principal's office. For Dean, today is over. It's just completely fucked.

 

He notices with satisfaction that Alastair is limping and that his nose is bleeding. He looks at his wrists; it's still visible where Alastair's fingernails have been and Dean screws up his nose.

 

Al has to see the principal first. He seems uninterested in the whole situation and on the entire way to the principal's office, he stared at Dean. Dean doesn't like the way those eyes are looking at him. What the hell is wrong with this guy? He thought _he_ was already fucked up, but Alastair brings the turn of phrase _fucked up_ to a whole new level.

 

Dean sits on a chair in front of the door that leads to the principal's office. It's an old, awkward chair and it creaks when he shifts weight. He sighs, staring at the door and wishing he was in the classroom, so he wouldn't be here.

 

After ten minutes, Alastair leaves the office. He closes the door behind him, grinning at Dean as if they were sharing an inside joke. “Your turn,” he says, taking a little bow. Then, he walks down the hallway and disappears around the corner. Dean looks scowlingly after him; a few seconds pass before he remembers that he's supposed to talk to the principal as well. He gets up, knocks shortly twice on the door and just opens it right away without waiting for an answer.

 

Bad-tempered, he enters the office and it comes to his mind that he hasn't even met the principal yet. He doesn't even remember if he has seen him before. He only remembers the name. Mr. Richings.

 

Dean's first thought is that the principal's office is very tidy, when he looks around. The floor is covered with ruby carpet and the walls are almost all over with shelves and cabinets. There are a lot of books and folders, and only a few decorative items like a huge pot plant near the double window. Right in front of Dean is a desk and behind the desk sits a man, who's writing something down on a white piece of paper. Dean squints at him, indecisive about what to do. Before the desk is a single chair and he thinks that Alastair probably sat there just a few moments ago, and he doesn't really feel like sitting down there right now. Besides, the man, who Dean assumes is the principal, still didn't bother to look up and at him yet.

 

When the man starts to speak, Dean is surprised. “Don't procrastinate. Sit down. I don't have all day.“

 

Dean is so taken aback, he just sits down without hesitating and he notices that his anger slowly subsides. This isn't how he has pictured the principal. He doesn't know what he has expected, but not this elder, leaner man who's wearing a black suit.

 

“So, you are Dean Winchester. We haven't met yet, but the teachers told me about you. I'm Mr. Richings.“

 

Dean's eyebrows shoot towards the ceiling. This is definitely not what he expected when he entered the office. Mr. Richings voice is a somehow slow, bored drawl that gives the impression he's sitting on this chair for a long, long time already and that there's nothing he hasn't seen or heard already. He appears downright _ancient_.

 

Mr. Richings looks expectantly at Dean and Dean thinks he's supposed to say something now. He asks the first thing that comes to his mind. “What did the teachers say about me?“

 

“Oh, good and bad,” is the certainly not satisfactory answer he gets, but he still just nods. Dean hesitates, biting his lip – should he say something about the incident with Alastair now? After all, that's the reason why he's here.

 

“So...,” he starts, trailing off again right away. Mr. Richings is staring at him with old, bored but nevertheless wise eyes and Dean feels a bit awkward.

 

“You want to tell me what happened from your point of view.“ It's not a question. Dean nods, but the principal stops him with a wave of his hand before he can even start to speak. Dean looks at him questioningly.

 

“That's not necessary,” Mr. Richings states.

 

“Why not?“ Dean wonders, surprised again. Mr. Richings huffs a small, humorless laugh. “I know Alastair for longer than you do, Dean. I have to deal with him for years by now. That's why I already know that he lied to me, when he told me that you have attacked him first.“

 

Dean's anger boils up once again, when he hears Alastair said of him that he had attacked him first. Dean grits his teeth, clenching his fists automatically. This _fucker_. He runs his fingers through his hair, tugging at it. Alastair is such a fucking asshole.

 

He swallows and looks back up at the principal, running his tongue over his lips. He's still so fucking angry and he's sure that it's quite obvious. But Mr. Richings doesn't say something about it. He tells Dean instead that he suspended Alastair for the rest of the week, but also that he doubts the boy is ever going to change. Afterwards, Dean waits for his own 'verdict'. He doesn't want to tell Sam, let alone John, that he doesn't need to go to school for the rest of the week, and he especially doesn't want to tell them the reason why. But clearly, he'll get the same punishment as Alastair – or so he thinks.

 

But Mr. Richings just stares thoughtfully at him for a long moment before he tells him he can go home for today, but just for today. Tomorrow, he's going to attend his classes normally again. Dean presses his eyebrows together, wondering for a moment if he misheard the principal's words. But apparently, he didn't. And once again, Dean is surprised by Mr. Richings.

 

For the principal, the conversation is over. “You can leave now,” he says, already starting to put a stack of paper in front of him and to fill in the first form. Dean leaves the office, quietly closing the door behind him, a little bit confused.

 

By now, the class is over and he's able to get his backpack out of the classroom before the teacher locks the door. He slings his backpack over the shoulder, wandering through the hallways, hoping that he'd see Sammy somewhere, but he doesn't.

 

Dean isn't in the mood to go home and he doesn't remember what shift John has today, so his father might be home. He doesn't want to run into John and explain why he's home early. So, Dean takes a walk. He takes a very long walk and he goes anywhere but the forest. He doesn't want to get lost again; he has to pick up Sam later.

 

He walks through the town that he still doesn't know and a part of him thinks, he could get to know it now, but he passes all the houses and shops and people without seeing them. He's lost in thought.

 

Dean thinks about everything and anything. He wonders for how long they'll stay here and although he wants to graduate before they move again, he doesn't want to be at the same place like Alastair anymore. He thinks about this fucker and how he looked at him. It was weird and creepy and he hates Alastair with all his heart. He doesn't know what's wrong with this guy or what he wanted from him today, but he knows for sure that he has to keep an eye on Alastair. He'll probably try something like today again.

 

Dean thinks and thinks and thinks. And he smokes – a lot. His pack is empty when he arrives back at school and he doesn't remember how many cigarettes he had left when he left school today. But he figures that it doesn't really matter. He already smoked them, it's too late anyway now. So he doesn't have to care about it.

 

He's mad, when Sam tells him he's heard about the fight with Alastair. Apparently, word spread fast of the fight. Sam asks him if he's okay and he shrugs. He doesn't know. It doesn't matter.

 

He's frustrated, because during the walk he also thought about Castiel and he's thinking about him again. He's mostly frustrated, because he's going round in circles. And he hates it. He hates that he misses Cas, the sound of his voice and the blue of his eyes. He hates that Castiel won't talk to him anymore and he hates that he doesn't get any explanation for that. He also hates that it bothers him at all. He hates that he has started to like Castiel Novak. He hates that this gorgeous boy messes with his head so easily. He tried to tell himself _that it's just another boy_ , but he knows that that's not true. He knows that Castiel is different. And special. And that he likes him. A lot.

 

Dean likes him much more than he knew he does, and only when Cas stopped talking to him, he realized _how much_ he actually likes this boy.

 

He likes Cas far too much for his liking.

 

He drops Sam off at home, making sure that John is snoring in his room and telling Sam that he should start doing his homework.

 

“Where are you going?“

 

“Just to the gas station. I need new cigarettes,” Dean explains, ignoring Sam's pout. “I'll be right back.“

 

Dean buys two packs of cigarettes and a sixpack beer. Thankfully, the gas station is just a few streets away from their house, so he doesn't have to walk that far. He thinks he's walked enough today. Especially, because all the walking and all the thinking were no good.

 

But now, on his way home and in a bad mood once again, Dean finally decides to get his bad boy reputation for good. Fuck Alastair. Fuck Castiel Novak. Fuck everyone and everything – besides Sammy. Everything but Sammy doesn't matter.

 

He should have get his reputation as soon as they've arrived in this town. How could he be so stupid and lose sight of his only goal? _Because of a boy?_ Dean scoffs, adjusting the sixpack in his arms. He shakes his head. Yeah, he was fucking stupid. He pretended to be _a good person_ , because of a boy. Because of Castiel. And maybe because of Sam.

 

But he isn't a good person and he has never been. So why should he pretend any longer?

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another long chapter :) hope you'll like it! 
> 
> Have a great day & a great weekend <3
> 
> ~ KC

“Do you feel like shit? Because you look like shit.“

 

Meg's sweet voice reaches Cas' ears and he blinks up at her. Her dark hair frames her face delicately and the piercings in her ear and her nose are sparkling in the sun, as she sits down next to him on the stone block. Cas watches her movements and how she's fiddling with a loose strand on one of the holes in her blue jeans, but he doesn't answer her.

 

He _does_ feel like shit, though. In the last ten days feeling like shit has become his constant norm once again. Hesitantly, he meets Meg's eyes.

 

“Have you slept lately?“ she asks, glancing at the bags under his tired, blue eyes. Cas just glares at her, taking another pull on his cigarette. “Since when you're acting so caringly?“ he asks.

 

Meg passes his question by, shrugging her shoulders and biting her lip. Cas glances at her and then at the ground again.

 

To tell the truth – not that he's going to do that, but still –, he doesn't get more than three hours of sleep a night lately, and he's already wondering if the dark circles around his eyes are ever going to disappear again.

 

It's lunch break and he sat alone outside on a stone block that's heated up from the sun, until Meg came outside and over to him. He can feel her staring at him from the side now.

 

Cas finishes smoking his cigarette, flicking the butt to the ground and stomping it out with the heel of his boot. He doesn't meet Meg's eyes again, not even when she starts to talk.

 

“You know, we – that means me and the others – have talked about you,” Meg informs him. Cas sighs. It was only a matter of time before his friends would try to ask him why he and Dean don't speak with each other anymore, and what has come over him.

 

Since he still doesn't answer her, Meg just continues speaking. “There has been a pretty long and extensive conversation about you, in fact. We have garnered some ideas how we could help you.“

 

Castiel can't help it, a small smile touches the corners of his mouth. It's just like his friends to do something like that. They all met and sat together and talked about him and how they could help him. They don't even know what this really is about.

 

That is Meg's next point. Of course, they've also talked about _why_ Cas could be behaving differently. “The most believe that your changed mood and behavior have something to do with Dean Winchester, since you two aren't talking anymore.“

 

Cas face falls slightly. Well, they are right, but still... – he also hasn't explained to his friends what happened between Dean and him, why they aren't talking to each other anymore... he had to explain other things as well then, and he can't do that.

 

Meg looks at him and then at her hands in her lap, muttering under her breath _why she's the one who has to do this_. Cas cracks another small smile. Somehow it's comforting that Meg also feels uncomfortable right now. She hates having these heart to heart talks.

 

She sighs. “Look Clarence, we've decided that we won't ask you what happened and you don't have to tell us anything if you don't want to.“ She nudges him until he raises his eyes and looks at her. “But you have to let us help you.“

 

Cas swallows, starting to chew on the inside of his cheek. He hesitates, because he doesn't want to drag his friends into this, who don't have to have anything to do with that. But Meg's eyes are hard and stern and she's waiting for his answer. He exhales slowly – and then he nods.

 

She seems relieved, getting up from the stone block and holding her hand out for him. He takes it without hesitation and follows her to the cafeteria. He doesn't ask why they're going inside, he doesn't have to; he already figured why.

 

All the others, all his other friends, are in the cafeteria. They pushed two tables together, in order to be able to sit all together. They're talking, but apparently they've waited for them, since everyone looks up when Cas enters the cafeteria with Meg.

 

Charlie gets up as soon as she sees them, impatiently waiting for them to come over to their tables, and throwing her arms around Castiel's neck, when he's finally within reach.

 

“You don't have to try and pretend you're okay any longer. I know how exhausting that is,” she whispers in his ear, so he's the only one who hears her words. His throat ripples when he swallows, but he smiles at her when she lets him go. They sit down and everyone is staring at Cas, who is a bit embarrassed but also relieved. It was indeed really fucking exhausting to pretend he's feeling okay, and apparently he wasn't even very convincing.

 

No one says a word, but rather everyone just looks at him, as if they're waiting for him to talking. A small blush creeps up his neck and he rolls his eyes at them, trying to diffuse the tension. “Come on, guys. Don't look at me like that. It's awkward.“

 

Cas grabs the water bottle that's standing in front of him on the table and fiddles with the plastic wrapped around it. The others start to chuckle a bit and Cas allows himself to relax, reminding himself that these are his friends and they want to help him and he doesn't even have to tell them what's wrong. They're not pushing him to say something, they're not prying.

 

He laughs a bit too, and then he asks whose idea it was to send Meg to talk with him. Gabriel answers his question. “She was the logical choice, because she isn't good at something like that, but she also wouldn't have started to cry.“ Gabe glances at Charlie, who looks back at him. “What?“ she asks defensively.

 

Cas smiles, looking at his friends and feeling warm all over, but at the same time he feels also bad. He was so concerned with his own interests, he was so _self-absorbed_ , he didn't even notice how worried his friends are because of him. He couldn't even say if he missed something important in the last days, because he was always so lost in thought. But Charlie and Dorothy and Benny and Madison are still holding hands, so at least he didn't miss a breakup. He has to be there for his friends as well. It's not their fault what happened to him and that he's so fucked up. He can't just abandon them like that.

 

He clears his throat and immediately all eyes are on him again. “So, what's your plan? How you're gonna help me?“

 

“Gabe, explain it,” Benny says and Gabriel presses his eyebrows together. “What does that mean? Am I the boss now?“ he asks with a smirk.

 

Crowley rolls his eyes. “No, it just means you should explain it. Maybe because it was _your_ idea.“

 

“Oh.“

 

“Okay, if you won't explain it, then I'll do it,” Charlie says, leaning forward and propping her elbows on the table.

 

“What? No, it was my idea, I'll explain it,” Gabriel says immediately.

 

“Then, just do it, Gabe. Don't make such a fuss,” Gadreel says. Gabriel rolls his eyes, but he smiles and then he looks at Castiel, who's biting his lip. Cas raises an eyebrow as if to tell Gabe silently _go on_.

 

“Okay. So, I thought, and the others agreed with me on this, that you should get a chaperone.“ He looks expectantly at Cas. Cas stops biting his lip and looks from Gabriel to the others. “ _A_ _chaperone_?“ he asks doubtfully.

 

“Yeah, it's a good idea,” Kevin means and Gabriel beams. “I concur!“

 

Meg shakes her head. “It's not what you think, Clarence. You don't get a _watchdog_. No one's going to tell you what to do, or when to do it. It simply means one of us will accompany you all day and you can talk with that person and they will plainly distract you.“

 

“Exactly,” Gabriel says, pointing at Meg and thanking her for explaining it properly.

 

Cas has the feeling that he won't really have a say in this. And the idea is really not that bad. He thanks his friends and says he's on board with their plan, and they all have the same relieved expression on their faces. Castiel doesn't mention that they only have five weeks of school left and that the plan won't work anymore after they've graduated, since they won't see each other daily anymore. He doesn't want to discourage them, not when they're making such an effort.

 

And he hopes himself that his friends' plan will prove to be successful, because his own plan doesn't.

 

They decide that Meg is his chaperone for the rest of the day, and then the lunch break is already over.

 

Meg might not be so good at this, but today it's enough for Castiel not to be completely alone with his thoughts. And Meg gets it not so bad after all; in fact she's getting it about right. She manages that they only ever _almost_ meet Dean, on their way to their last class or after school finishes. So, Cas doesn't have a lot of time to gaze after the green-eyed boy.

 

He misses Dean and he hates it. He hates it so much.

 

Castiel doesn't want to think about Dean anymore, but he thinks about him all the time. So no, his plan is really not working, since he _still_ likes Dean. He's still not over Dean. The only thing he accomplished to do _is making Dean hate him._

 

Sure, this leads to the whole not talking with Dean anymore, but not to Cas finally forgetting about Dean Winchester, let alone getting over him and this stupid crush he has on him.

 

He _still_ has a crush on Dean. A massive crush, in fact.

 

And it was hard as fuck to ignore Dean and to tell him that he should leave him alone. But it was even harder to watch Dean _actually_ leaving him alone, to watch him ignoring him as well. Cas should be glad about this, since it's what he wanted, but he isn't. He feels absolutely miserable.

 

He has to watch Dean finally getting his bad boy reputation and he knows once again people are just waiting for him and Dean to crash and to start a fight.

 

Maybe, _just maybe_ it would help him to get over Dean, if they had a real fight, Cas thinks as he watches Dean pushing some freshman kid to the ground outside before Meg pulls at his hand and he tags along after her, tearing his eyes away from Dean.

 

Castiel is angry at himself for having a crush on Dean Winchester. Really, it's so unnecessary and the last thing he has wanted. The past five years he managed not to fall for anyone. Sure, there's been one boy he has kissed but that was a disaster anyway and even more a reason not to be interested in anyone. And he wasn't attached to this boy, they weren't even really together anyway, so the 'breakup' wasn't what hurt. What hurt far more was what the boy said and did to him, and how he treated Cas. After that it was more than just easy to ignore boys and not to want anyone.

 

And then Dean came, and in a split second Cas was already head over heels for Dean. It's so absurd and he tried to resist it, but it just got worse and worse – his feelings for Dean just intensified more and more. And now, he's stuck with this crush on Dean that doesn't go away and it's unfair, because _he can't have Dean_.

 

Besides, Dean hates him now. Castiel already thought that Dean would be mad at him, when he just stopped talking to him without providing any explanation, and he was right. Dean _is_ mad at him. After a couple of days, he didn't try again to talk with him, to get an explanation from Cas, even though he even sent Benny to him once to get answers.

 

But now... Dean doesn't miss him, Dean doesn't _need_ him – and Cas knows that. He also knows that he shouldn't miss Dean. After all, Dean Winchester is just a boy. He's just another boy, that's all.

 

What a _pathetic_ lie.

 

The next days Gabriel, Kevin and then Garth are his chaperone for the day. They aren't able to keep Cas away from Dean completely, after all they still have English together. But Cas' friends are able to distract him.

 

Gabriel is even more talkative than usual and he makes jokes and buys junk food for them. They bet how many chicken nuggets they can eat before they start to feel sick, and afterwards Missouri has to make them one of her special teas so they won't throw up in her shop.

 

Kevin helps Cas to learn and they reorganize his folders and flashcards. Kevin underlines important stuff with different highlighters and puts sticky notes inside the folders to distinguish the different topics, while he tests Cas orally. Castiel watches Kevin's swift hands and answers questions about math formulas and the first world war and how to write an analysis correctly.

 

Garth is also doing a good job as his chaperone. He asks Castiel a lot of questions throughout the day, so Cas is the one who has to do all the talking. Garth broaches the different subjects again and again, getting Cas to talk a lot more than usual. That's a good way to keep him away from thinking about Dean, and Garth is an excellent listener.

 

On Friday, Charlie is his chaperone and slowly, Castiel is getting used to this and he's glad about having such good friends. Charlie talks with him about movies and TV shows, and she is quirky and talks and asks as much as Castiel does. Also, she is clever enough not to mention Dorothy, probably because she thinks it would make Cas sad to hear about her relationship, when he and Dean don't talk to each other anymore. And she's not so wrong. As happy as Cas is for her that she has Dorothy and that their relationship is going so well, he doesn't really want to talk about it too much, when he still has this crush on Dean.

 

When they enter the cafeteria, Dean just got a coke from the grumpy lady at the serving counter and Charlie and Cas silently agree that it's okay to get in line now, since Dean is already on his way to an empty table. Charlie starts to talk about having a _Lord of the Rings_ and _The Hobbit_ marathon and Castiel listens to her, but out of the corner of his eye, he sees Cole and Malachi entering the cafeteria. He doesn't think about it too much, until they walk straight up to Dean and Cole throws the first punch out of the blue. Malachi doesn't wait either and hauls off as well right. Cas still doesn't really think about it, but he starts to move, making a few steps in their direction.

 

His brain only catches up with what he's doing, when Charlie puts her hand on his arm and he looks at her. She's looking sad and she screws up her nose, when Dean hits Malachi's chin with his elbow, but she's shaking her head determinedly. Cas bites his lip and he looks over to Dean one more time, but then he tears his eyes away from the fight. Charlie is right – he shouldn't get involved into it. What would Dean even say when Castiel just butted into the fight? He'd probably be mad at him and hate him a little bit more. So Cas follows Charlie out of the cafeteria, down the hallway and outside.

 

They go over to the stone blocks, sitting down on one of them. It's warm, downright hot. The air is heavy and Cas envies Charlie, who's wearing a _Game of Thrones_ t-shirt, whereas he wears a black sweater. It's a thin sweater but still, it's already too much clothing. Sadly, he's also wearing tight jeans, and he curses the summer. But he still pulls his sleeves a little further down.

 

Charlie doesn't mention it. None of his friends asks him why he's never wearing any t-shirts or shorts in the summer and Cas is grateful for that. He doesn't want to have to explain it. Suppressing a sigh, he looks around and tries not to think about all the scars he's hiding and that he doesn't want anyone to see.

 

And then, he spots Alastair.

 

Castiel furrows his brow. Alastair is standing off the school premises, at the edge of the forest between some trees, and he's staring into the direction of the cafeteria. The longer Cas watches Alastair standing there, the surer he is that Cole and Malachi attacked Dean, because Alastair wanted them to. There's no way it's just a coincidence that Alastair is standing there at this very moment and stares through the windows of the cafeteria.

 

He grits his teeth, knowing exactly that he's doing what he shouldn't do – thinking about Dean. But he has heard of Dean's and Alastair's fight; who hasn't? – word gets around and after all, Alastair was suspended for the rest of the week after it. And that is probably the reason why Alastair sent Cole and Malachi to beat Dean up now – to take some vengeance.

 

Cas starts to wonder if the fight in the cafeteria is still going before he reminds himself not to think about Dean once again. He shouldn't care about this. He _doesn't_ have to care about this.

 

“Ugh, he's such a freak. Do you think he's watching the fight?“ Charlie asks. Cas turns around to her; she's looking past him, over to where Alastair is standing, and she's grimacing. Only slowly, realization spreads across her face and regret settles in her eyes, because of her words. She bites her lip, looking at Cas apologetically, knowing very well that she just reminded him of Dean.

 

He just shrugs his shoulders. “Probably,” he says, not wanting to elaborate on this topic. Charlie understands that and silently apologizes for starting to talk about something that has to do with Dean. Cas clears his throat, giving her a small smile. He thinks she has no idea what it means to him that they're able to communicate without words. He has to tell her some time. For now, they change the topic, talking about possible movie marathons they could do for the rest of the break.

 

As always on Friday, English is his last class and Castiel is already sitting on his new place in the last row when Dean enters the room. And god, Dean's face is _a_ _mess_ and Cas actually flinches a bit, when he sees it.

 

But from what he heard in the hallways, Dean _won_ the fight. And apparently, Cole and Malachi look even worse than Dean and they got sent to the school nurse, who has to check if they need to go to the hospital. Cas finds that hard to believe, since Dean's face is already in a pretty bad condition.

 

Dean's lip is split, there's still some blood right under his nose and a scratch on his chin, and a big red-purple bruise is adorning his right upper jaw, somehow complimenting the green of Dean's eyes. Cas knows that this bruise is only going to get darker over the next days until it starts to fade.

 

Of course, with Cas staring at him openly, they lock eyes eventually and there's a fierce satisfaction in Dean's eyes – now, he has the status of a bad boy for sure.

 

Castiel swallows, breaking eye contact after a few seconds, and fuck it, Dean looks _hot_ and it's more than just impressing that he won against these two guys.

 

He thinks it's just not fair that he has a crush on Dean, and Dean can move on so easily. He also thinks about Anna's party in February and how Dean looked at his lips back then, and Cas is sure that Dean was interested in him.

 

But that's clearly over.

 

Cas knows that for sure because a few days later, he stumbles around a corner, already being late for his next class since he had to smoke a third cigarette. He stops dead when he sees the only two other people in the corridor.

 

Dean and Anna.

 

They don't even notice him, since their tongues are pretty busy with each other at the moment.

 

Castiel is only able to stare at them for a few seconds, but nevertheless he takes everything in. The way Dean's hands are either on Anna's waist, pulling her body flush against his, or buried in her long red hair, and the way he's holding her against the wall. Anna's hands are on Dean's neck and in his hair.

 

Cas turns around, but he doesn't go to his next class.

 

Crowley, his chaperone for today, finds him outside on one of the stone blocks in the next break – chain-smoking yet again. They were supposed to have the class, that Cas just skipped, together.

 

“Where have you been?“ Crowley asks, eyebrows pressed together, when he's standing in front of Cas. He looks down at him, hands in the pockets of his pea coat that he's still wearing despite the warm weather. Cas thinks he looks weird without the pea coat, though.

 

He shrugs but he doesn't reply to Crowley's question, but rather just asks one himself. “What do you have?“ Cas' voice is husky, due to all the cigarettes that he smoked, but he doesn't care. The cigarettes didn't help, he needs _something_ _stronger_ and he knows that Crowley has something stronger.

 

Cas returns Crowley's gaze and he knows that Crowley wants to ask what happened, but he doesn't. Good. Castiel wouldn't have answered him anyway. He thinks Crowley knows that and that's the reason why he doesn't even bother to ask. Instead the Brit just says, a small smirk playing on his lips, “Everything you want.“

 

Castiel nods, stomping out his last cigarette with the heel of his boot, ignoring the something that's tugging at his insides and making him want to throw up. He starts to leave the school grounds, walking towards the trees, and Crowley just follows him, not mentioning that their last class starts in a few minutes. Cas doesn't care about this. He tries not to think, while he walks along the edge of the woods. There's no path, but he knows where he's going. He hears Crowley behind him, stomping on some loose branches and leaves on the forest floor.

 

Crowley pulls his keys out of a pocket when they arrive at his apartment, and Cas waits impatiently for him to open the door. He has been here many times already and the small apartment is more than familiar. They enter it, Crowley locks the door behind them again and they're standing in the living room right away. Crowley doesn't have a hallway. The door on the left leads to the bedroom and the door to the right leads to the bathroom. In one of the corners of the living room is a kitchen nook.

 

“Just give me a second,” Crowley mutters, taking off the pea coat and hanging it on the coat rack before disappearing into the bedroom. Cas swallows, rubbing at his arm through his blue sweater. Sometimes, his scars start to itch again, feeling fresh and new all of a sudden. He licks his lips and sits down on the couch. This is stupid. Something like _that_ shouldn't make Cas feel like _this_. It's so fucking ridiculous. He runs his fingers through his hair, tugging at some of the strands, looking out of the window and at the near forest. His thoughts are still racing. He hates this so much.

 

Crowley comes out of his bedroom and sits down next to Cas on the couch. He's holding a small plastic bag in one hand, a grin lifts up the corners of his mouth. “Is this adequate to begin with?“ he asks, and Cas eyes the white powder in the bag. Cocaine.

 

He just nods and Crowley pours a small amount of the cocaine on the coffee table. Castiel never asked the Brit where he always gets all the drugs, and he sure as hell won't start asking questions now.

 

Crowley uses his bank card to make a neat line of the cocaine and rolls up a sheet of paper. He leans down and snorts the entire line, without blinking. Castiel copies him and doesn't hesitate as well. He thinks briefly that their movements are far too smooth, because this isn't the first time they're doing this, but then the effects of the cocaine hit him and this thought gets kicked out of his head.

 

The itching of his scars stops and gets replaced by a tingling that spreads all over his body very quickly and somehow gets _into_ his body as well after a few seconds. The familiar feeling of _flying_ takes him over and he forgets Crowley for a moment until the Brit says something and Cas just starts laughing. He doesn't even know what Crowley said and it probably wasn't even funny, but it's easier just to laugh. He's laughing until his stomach hurts and tears are prickling at the corners of his eyes, and Crowley laughs as well, probably not knowing why they're laughing. But Cas knows if he weren't laughing, he'd be crying or punching something – or someone. Laughing feels easier and certainly better right now.

 

He just continues laughing softly, holding his stomach and thinking about all the things he could do, but isn't going to do. He could get over this stupid crush he has on Dean Winchester and just beat the shit out of him, simultaneously beating all the feelings he has for the green-eyed boy out of himself. Or maybe he could just go up to Dean and kiss him, making him forget that he's ever kissed Anna Milton, because kissing Castiel _is so much better_. He could tell Dean everything, everything he ever did and said, and everything that's ever happened to him and all the reasons why he's so fucked up and why they aren't talking to each other anymore. He could explain everything to Dean, so Dean could at least understand that this isn't about him, that it has nothing to do with him. It's only Castiel, it's his fault, he's the one that's so fucked up. He's the one that's simply not good for other people. And maybe he could even get over what those two men did to him five years ago and maybe _then_ , he had a chance with Dean.

 

But all of this is only happening in his mind right now. It's not really going to happen, not any time soon. But Castiel doesn't think about that. He just enjoys all those possibilities the cocaine plants in his head, all those things he _could_ do right now, if he weren't sitting on this couch at the moment.

 

The effects of the cocaine don't last very long though, and they go for a second round. Cas doesn't regret it, although he starts to think about sweet stellar constellations that look suspiciously like freckles on smooth, tanned skin under two seas of _green_.

 

They spend the rest of the day in Crowley's little apartment. After the effects of their second round of cocaine fade away, they smoke – Crowley has plenty of cigarettes – and drink the beer from Crowley's small fridge. A couple of hours go by and they go for a third round of cocaine and drink a few more beers. Castiel gets lost in a forest that only consists of evergreen trees in his mind, probably due to the cocaine, until he passes out.

 

It's shortly after midnight when he wakes up with a grunt, his neck sore from sleeping on the couch in an uncomfortable position for too long. His joins protest when he stretches his arms and legs, and he grimaces, slowly getting up and shuffling to the bathroom. His full bladder is what woke him up in the first place.

 

Crowley is still sleeping when Cas enters the living room again. He gets a glass of water before sitting back down on the couch, avoiding to sit on Crowley's feet, since the Brit stretched out his legs in his sleep after Cas got up. Absentmindedly, he grabs his phone, taking a sip of the cold water. “Oh no,” he sighs, when he sees that he has over a dozen missed calls from his brother and also a couple of texts from Lucifer. He runs his fingers through his already messed up hair.

 

Even though he doesn't want to, he gets up again, still feeling somewhat dizzy. It takes some time to wake Crowley and he barely stays awake long enough for Castiel to thank and farewell him quietly.

 

On his way home, the pleasantly fresh night air almost sobers him up completely. Castiel likes to be alone outside at night. Everyone else is asleep and with the stars twinkling above him, he has the feeling he's the only person on this entire planet, and that makes it easier not to feel so unbelievably worthless like he does every other minute of the day.

 

He comes home to a pissed off big brother, who demands to know where the fuck he was the whole day without telling him. Castiel sighs.

 

“I was with Crowley. We were in his apartment. I go there quite often, and you know that.“

 

“I have nothing against you spending time with Crowley or going to his apartment, Cas. That's not the point,” Lucifer says, stopping him from just sneaking into his room. “The point is that I don't want you to just go off without telling me. I was worried, okay? You didn't answer my calls and you didn't text me back.“

 

“I'm sorry, okay? I forgot to tell you and at some point I fell asleep. As soon as I woke up, I went home.“

 

Lucifer eyes him and Castiel prays that he doesn't have any cocaine left on his face. “I'm sorry,” he repeats, and he means it. He doesn't want Lucifer to worry about him.

 

“The next time, just tell me, okay?“ Lucifer says and Cas nods. “And now tell me, what you took.“

 

Lucifer crosses his arms in front of his chest, waiting patiently for his little brother to answer him. Cas looks down on the floor, biting the inside of his cheek before blowing out all the breath from his lungs and looking up at Lucifer again. “Cocaine,” he says quietly.

 

Lucifer sighs, closing his eyes. They both know Castiel hasn't taken any drugs the last couple of weeks and Cas knows Lucifer's been glad about that. His big brother shakes his head slightly and then he pushes Cas towards the stairs. Cas looks at him questioningly, but Lucifer just says that it's late and sends him to bed, and Cas doesn't complain. As soon as his head hits the pillow, he falls asleep.

 

When he wakes up, he screws up his nose, because he reeks of beer and cigarette smoke. He didn't bother to change his clothes in the night, he was so tired. Now, he regrets that.

 

Cas gets up, grabs some fresh clothes and goes into the bathroom to take a long shower. He stands under the hot water until the soreness of his muscles ceases, and he wakes his brother up. After the water ran for about ten minutes, Lucifer knocks on the door.

 

“Cas?“

 

“Yeah?“ He turns the water off, so he can hear Lucifer properly.

 

“Why the fuck are you already up?“

 

“What do you mean?“ Cas wrinkles his brow, confused.

 

“It's 5 am.“

 

“Really?“ Cas wonders. He didn't look at the time when he got up.

 

“Yeah, really. You're okay?“

 

“I'm fine,” Cas answers, surprised. He didn't even sleep for five hours, but somehow he doesn't even feel remotely tired. Lucifer lets him finish showering calmly and when Cas goes downstairs, the table is already set and heavy with plates. Lucifer made breakfast for them, or more for Castiel.

 

He looks at his big brother with raised eyebrows, glancing at the _overdone_ breakfast. There are omelets, pancakes and toasts on three different plates. On another plate is cheese and cold cuts. There are bowls with cereal, cornflakes and also fruits. Cas would think that it's ridiculous, but then he sees the expression in Lucifer's eyes and his brother just says that it's as compensation for the alcohol, the cigarettes and the drugs. Castiel huffs a small breath, but he sits down and obliges his brother without grumbling, and he eats a little bit of everything.

 

Castiel remembers only little what happened yesterday, and what he did with Crowley. But he remembers the reason why he's feeling so rough however very well.

 

_He saw Dean kissing Anna Milton._

 

Cas scoffs. Who'd have thought jealousy is such a pain in the ass?

 

Lucifer drives him to school this morning, grumbling that it's only an exception, but Cas is glad that he doesn't have to walk. Slowly, his lack of sleep becomes noticeable, after all.

 

In the first break, Meg joins him and Ash, his chaperone for today, briefly to bring him two cans of _Red Bull_. “Thank you,” he mutters, opening one can right away and putting the other in his backpack.

 

“Don't mention it,” she says, smirking and eyeing him once, probably taking in how shitty he looks before she goes away again.

 

Ash is the right guy to be his chaperone for today. He's quiet and gets Cas a sandwich with cheese and ham from somewhere, even though it's not lunch break yet. Ash also doesn't ask Cas why he looks even shittier than usual. He just learns French vocabulary with him and tells him that Charlie and he are going to bet who's able to hack the computer system of the school fastest.

 

Cas is listening to him, but he can't help it. He's thinking about that he's going to see Anna in a few minutes, during French class. He chews on his lip when he farewells Ash at the end of the break and goes to the classroom. He doesn't want to skip a class today, so he sighs and pulls himself together, following the others and sitting down in his usual seat.

 

Anna enters the room, when Cas is already sitting and he automatically looks at her. But it's not as bad as he thought it would be. Sure, he notices once again that Anna is certainly beautiful, even though she's scowling, but luckily, they sit in a way where Cas isn't able to look at her without craning his neck.

 

The thought that she knows now what it feels like to kiss Dean stings though, and Cas hates it. He also hates himself for liking Dean – for _still_ liking Dean.

 

It doesn't help that he tells himself Dean would hate him either way, even if he never stopped talking to him without any explanation. Dean would hate him. At some point, Dean would have started to hate him anyway; Castiel is a firm believer in that.

 

There were moments when he thought about giving Dean an explanation, to just tell him _everything_ and scare him away, but Cas could never actually bring himself to do that, so he abandoned this thought again.

 

This afternoon, Ash accompanies him to Missouri's shop and while Cas scribbles absentmindedly on some notepads, Ash and Missouri talk about school and what Ash wants to do after it. Castiel already knows about Ash's planned unplanned road trip, so he zooms out after a while, but Missouri listens carefully to Ash. She's a very, very good listener.

 

Eventually, Ash and Missouri turn to Cas, who stayed out of the conversation so far, and face him. Missouri asks him what he wants to do after school; she couldn't remember if he already told her something. Cas thinks she knows exactly that he haven't told her anything yet, and he also thinks that she also already knows the reason for that.

 

His fears for the future overwhelm him once again, crushing him and his lungs. He tries to swallow past the sudden lump in his throat, but it doesn't really work.

 

“I... I don't have any plans yet,” he tells Missouri and Ash in a small voice, feeling somehow ashamed because of it. He fiddles with the page of the notepad he was scribbling on.

 

But Missouri regards that with a warm, soft smile that makes her brown eyes start to shine. “Would you like to work officially in my shop?“ she asks gently. Cas stops fiddling with the sheet of paper and looks at her with wide eyes. “Really?“ he asks.

 

Missouri chuckles. “Of course, honey. You will get paid and everything, and you can start whenever you want after the graduation.“

 

Cas feels better instantly and nods. Yes, he'd like that.

 

For the rest of the time they're there, Missouri tells them about the flowers she wants to start selling soon. She has already ordered them and she tells them all about the different meanings of the flowers. The whole time a small smile is playing on Cas' lips. Slowly, he realizes that he has a plan now. He knows what he's going to do after school now, to begin with at least, and he feels somewhat lighter.

 

When they leave, Missouri gives him a long, warm hug and he sinks into it. “I know that nothing feels okay right now. I'm here if you ever want to talk about it,” she says quietly. And when they pull apart and Cas looks into her gentle brown eyes, he _almost_ spills.

 

But he pulls himself together once again, because god, _he wants to tell someone about Dean_ , but how is he supposed to explain the thing with Dean and why they aren't talking anymore? He never told Missouri what happened to him, even though she's one of the few people who have seen his scars. The other people are Meg, Lucifer and his father. And Cas is sure that Missouri and Meg know what kinds of scars are on his body, but he never explicitly told them, although he's also sure that _somehow_ Missouri just knows what happened to him. But still, maybe he should just shut up.

 

Cas thanks her just as quietly, but just because he doesn't trust his voice completely. He sees nothing but genuine worry in her face, and he bites his lip. Ash walks him home, because he's that kind of person.

 

Once more, the feeling that he doesn't deserve his friends is rushing over him like high wind.

 

Later, when Cas finished learning for his first exam tomorrow – math, of all things – and he's lying in bed, he contemplates telling Missouri about Dean.

 

He could just tell Missouri all the reasons why he likes Dean, why Dean is so different and so, _so_ special.

 

He doesn't have to tell her that he doesn't want to hurt Dean, although he already did and he hates himself for that. But as expected, Cas pushed Dean away in order not to hurt and then lose him, but he did hurt and lose him nevertheless.

 

Cas doesn't have to say that he thinks he's broken like a shattered glass bottle on concrete floor. He doesn't have to say that he thinks he's worthless and not good enough, _especially_ not for Dean. Not for Dean, who deserves everything good and all the happiness in the world, and _Castiel can't give him any of that._

 

But he could just tell Missouri about Dean, and he's thinking about telling her, but he isn't sure yet. So, he puts his headphones into his ears after a while, because loud music always helps with everything, and eventually he falls asleep.

 

He wakes up, the music is still playing, and when he blinks his eyes open and looks at his alarm, it's shortly after 6:30 am, and about 20 seconds later his alarm starts to ring. Cas jumps a bit and turns it off, grimacing and lying on his back now. At first, he doesn't really listen to the music, but rather fully wake up slowly but then the song's lyrics that's currently playing start to arrive at his brain.

 

…

_'Cause I won't give up without a fight_

_If you love me let me go_  
If you love me let me go  
‘Cause these words are knives that often leave scars  
The fear of falling apart  
And truth be told, I never was yours  
The fear, the fear of falling apart

…

 

And yet again, Castiel thinks about _green_ , freckles that look like delicate little stars, about cigarette smoke in front of a marble fountain, bruised knuckles and a deep voice that calls him _Cas_ and makes it sound so differently than when the others call him that, and suddenly he feels sad.

 

He sighs, a tight feeling in his chest.

 

Fucking Dean Winchester.

 

Lucifer wishes him the best of luck for his first exam after breakfast and then Cas leaves the house, meeting Garth, his chaperone for today, in front of the school building.

 

Garth is able to calm Cas down, who's suddenly getting nervous. _What if he hasn't learned enough? What if he'll fail?_ His fingers are twitching and he doesn't look at anything for longer than two seconds. He feels too heavy and there's a glimmer of panic at the back of his mind.

 

He realizes that this is how Charlie felt during the last weeks, and he wonders why he's only feeling like this right now, just before the first exam.

 

Kevin comes over to them, wishing them the best of luck and saying that they're going to ace, since they've learned so much. Castiel envies Kevin who doesn't have his first exam today and therefore has also no reason to be nervous. But then something comes to his mind, after Kevin's last sentence.

 

He looks at Garth. “What are the others doing, when it isn't them who's looking after me?“

 

“They're learning together for the exams,” Kevin answers.

 

“Or they're thinking about strategies to help you feel better,” Garth adds.

 

Cas bites his lip, looking at the floor. Yeah, he _certainly_ doesn't deserve his friends.

 

“I always spend the day with only one of you,” he says, scratching his neck and looking up again.

 

“Yeah, we all agreed on that being the most easiest and the most relaxed way for you,” Garth says, shrugging his shoulders. Cas just nods; he's a little bit overwhelmed by a lot of gratitude towards his friends right now.

 

The math exam really works out, better than Cas would have thought, and he leaves the classroom with a good feeling.

 

He and Garth go to Garth's place and they learn together for their history exam tomorrow. Castiel thinks that maybe he could tell Missouri about Dean on the weekend, but then it's actually already Saturday and he's still not sure about it.

 

He's sitting outside on their front porch together with Meg and they're smoking. Music is playing in the background and every so often, they sing along to it or they just hum the melodies. And they talk about anything but school and finals, because they agreed on taking some time off today from all the learning. But of course, Meg notices that he's miles away. She asks him what he's thinking about, taking another pull on her cigarette.

 

“I just wanted to visit Missouri,” Cas mumbles, picking at some grass blades that grow at his feet.

 

“Why don't you go visit her then?“ Meg asks, pressing her eyebrows together. Castiel shrugs; he doesn't know. He hasn't made a decision yet. He's not good at making decisions. Either, he can't decide at all, or when he makes a decision, he regrets it deeply – like pushing Dean away and stopping to talk with him, even though it was the right thing to do. But still, he doesn't want to tell Missouri and then regret it.

 

But he wants to talk about Dean, _really_ talk about Dean, and forget about all the bad stuff for a few minutes.

 

Cas wishes he were good at making decisions. He wonders how other people do it.

 

Together with Lucifer, they make _spaghetti alla carbonara_ and while they're eating, Cas makes a decision. He will go to Missouri.

 

They clean up the kitchen – they made quiet a mess, but it was fun – and then he farewells Meg, whom he releases earlier today. He needs to go alone to Missouri.

 

He tells Lucifer where he'll go and then he hits the road. Since it's afternoon and on Saturday, Missouri's shop is only open from 8 to 12, Cas goes to her house.

 

Missouri isn't surprised when she opens the front door and Cas is standing on her front porch. She just ushers him into the kitchen and tells him to sit down. Cas assumes she expected him to show up one of these days, so he doesn't say something about it.

 

He just sits down at the kitchen table and Missouri pours some chocolate milk in two glasses before she sits down across from him, putting one of the glasses in front of him. Cas takes a sip and looks into Missouri's eyes. There's a knowing expression on her face.

 

“I wanted to talk,” Cas says slowly, and she nods. She waits patiently while he tries to find the right words to say. He doesn't really know where to start. “I like someone,” he says eventually, wrinkling his forehead and returning Missouri's glance. She still doesn't say anything, probably not to interrupt his thought process.

 

Cas bites his lip and looks at his hands, and he thinks about how he slammed Dean against the wall after he and Gadreel fought with each other and how he held Dean's hand briefly, when he helped him up after Cole attacked Dean. He swallows.

 

And then he just starts to talk, without thinking about the _right words_. He finally spills and he tells Missouri about Dean, about the day they met and that the green nail polish reminded him of Dean's eyes. And god, those eyes are so freaking beautiful – the most beautiful eyes he's ever seen. They're _so green_ and whenever he looks into them, he feels like he's standing in the middle of a clearing and it calms him down. It's always a shame when he has to stop looking into Dean's eyes, because the _green_ is so addicting, and Cas never wants to leave that clearing. He always wants to feel that calm like he feels when he's with Dean.

 

He tells Missouri how much he likes Dean. That it's a lot. He likes him so fucking much, it's tearing him apart. It's actually hurting, since he's never liked a person that much before, and Cas just isn't able to comprehend all these feelings. He tells her how much he enjoys talking to Dean and it's not just because they never seem to run out of things they can talk about, but rather because of the deep grumble that is Dean's voice. It's like thunder mixed with the noise of a well-kept car engine, and the only reason this comparison comes to Cas' mind is that Dean likes cars so much. But Dean's voice can also be so soft and gentle, warm and lovingly, for example whenever Dean talks about his little brother or whenever Dean calls him _Cas_.

 

That's another thing. The way Dean says his name, whether it be _Castiel_ or simply _Cas_. It sounds differently, it _feels_ differently whenever Dean is saying his name. It's not like when his friends or his brother, let alone his father, say his name. It's like Dean gives his name a meaning. It's like his name belongs right there, on Dean's lips. Castiel feels warm, whenever he hears Dean saying his name, because he feels safe. His name is safe in Dean's mouth, and somehow that doesn't feel weird, it just feels _good_.

 

And Dean is able to make him smile and laugh _so_ _easily_. No laugh or smile of Cas in Dean's presence is ever forced. Castiel just thinks that that's something important and Missouri just nods, not wanting to interrupt him, now that he's finally talking.

 

Cas shifts in his chair and then he tells her that he just knows there's more to Dean than meets the eye. Dean always tries to hide it, like he built a thick wall around himself, around his heart, and it's so high, it will prevent everyone from seeing all his secrets, all his demons and all his pain. But somehow Cas has the feeling that he's just able to see right through this wall and he doesn't understand it. He sees Dean's pain in his eyes, sees his secrets dripping from his lips, sees his demons lurking right behind him, but he doesn't know what it all means. And he's denied access to the details.

 

But Castiel wants to know _everything_. He wants to know everything there is to know about Dean. And he wants to take all his dark thoughts and demons and all the pain, and just throw it all away, because no one should walk around with such a burden. He tells Missouri about the night where he met Dean in the bar and about everything that happened there. It's clear that she doesn't like it, when he tells her that Dean has called him a _faggot_. But he tells her about the regret that shone so brightly in Dean's green eyes right after it happened and how he tried to apologize. And he says that he was never mad at Dean for it, even though sometimes he wonders if he's supposed to be mad because of it. But he can just _see_ that Dean is a good person. To Castiel, it's so obvious, but even Dean himself doesn't seem to know that. And Cas wants to change that. He'd love nothing better than to make Dean sit down, to sit down close beside him and to just tell him all the good and beautiful things that comes to Cas' mind whenever he looks at Dean, or simply thinks about him. He wants to show Dean that he is _truly beautiful_.

 

After a small pause, Cas licks his lips and then he tells Missouri about Dean's family. Dean's mother is dead as well and Cas hates that they have this in common, of all things. He thinks Dean only told him about his mother, since Cas told him first that his own mother is dead. And he thinks there's something wrong with Dean's dad. So often, Dean would come to school with a fresh bruise on his body, and worry and even more sadness in his eyes, even though he didn't get in any fights at school. Cas notices that Missouri wrinkles her forehead at the mention of Dean's father, and he assumes she has heard about him. Missouri hears a lot of things, because she talks to a lot of people. Maybe she knows what's wrong with Dean's father, but Cas doesn't want to hear that right now, so he starts to talk about Dean's little brother Sam. He tells her how smart Sam is, how he's able to hold an intelligent conversation with Cas. He tells her that he thinks Dean is an amazing big brother that loves his little brother with all his heart.

 

Missouri just continues to listen to him, nodding and smiling softly, and not interrupting him once.

 

When Castiel eventually stops talking, she clasps her hands on the table and looks at him. “You haven't told Dean any of this.“

 

Cas shakes his head. He wonders if he should tell Missouri about the bad things now – that Dean and he aren't talking anymore, but that isn't why he came here. Maybe he'll tell her on another day.

 

Missouri sighs. “You really like him.“

 

“Yeah.” Cas sighs quietly. “I have a crush on him.“ This is the first time that he said those words out loud. He glances at Missouri, putting his empty glass on the table. She cocks her head. “Honey, I'm afraid these feelings are already a little bit more than _a simple crush_.“

 

Cas stares at her with wide eyes. He swallows, throat rippling, and looks down at the table surface. _More than a simple crush_. Fuck. That's all he needed. He runs his fingers through his hair, looking up at Missouri again.

 

“That's not a bad thing, liking someone so much,” she says, voice calm and gentle. “In fact, it's a good thing.“

 

Cas shrugs his shoulders, halfheartedly. _A good thing_. Yeah, maybe it would be a good thing, if Dean and he were still talking to each other, if he hadn't make Dean hate him, if Cas had a different past and were a different person. If he were different, if he were _better_ , if those things hadn't happen to him, if he hadn't depression and anxiety, if he didn't feel so worthless and like he's never good enough, if he were a person that deserves someone like Dean and that is good enough for Dean – yes, _then_ it would be a good thing to like Dean so much.

 

But since all these things aren't true, it's _the worst thing_ that could have happened to Cas, after all that has already happened to him.

 

On the way home, Castiel realizes that talking about Dean and the feelings he has for him made it all slip from his mind into reality. In his mind, it was all just his thoughts and it was _inside him_ , and now it's out in the world, even though he only told Missouri about it. Now, it feels even more real and it's pressing down on him. And he wonders how the fuck he's supposed to get over this beautiful boy now.

 

He knows that he isn't able to have Dean, although he wishes he were able to, but Castiel is just so fucked up. It's summer and hot, even though it's in the evening by now but the air is still heavy, and he's wearing a sweater to hide all the scars on his arms. He thinks about Meg, who wore a crop top and shorts today, and he envies her. He envies everyone who doesn't feel the need to hide their body in the summer.

 

Yeah, Dean would definitely never want him. But hell, Castiel wants Dean and apparently he has to live with these feelings for longer than he thought and wanted to.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Btw, for the ones who don't recognize the song lyrics, the song is This Is Gospel by Panic! At The Disco :)


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello beautiful people! The new chapter is here, so yay, but I already apologize :') I swear, I know where we are going, it just takes a while, and in the next chapters Dean & Castiel will get A LOT closer, I promise, and you'll get to know more about Castiel's past.
> 
> I hope you like this chapter nevertheless :) there are over 13 thousand words (I just kept writing and writing, I hope you don't mind) and I always proofread the chapters before I publish them, but I might have missed some mistakes, sorry for that. 
> 
> Hope you have a great day! I love y'all
> 
> ~ KC

Dean ignores Cas as best he can, gripping his bottle of coke tightly and starting to walk over to an empty table. He's in a bad mood either way, but the grumpy lady at the serving counter didn't exactly brighten up his mood. He flops down on a chair with a snort, scowling at everyone and everything in sight. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Castiel and Charlie joining the end of the queue in front of the serving counter, waiting to get something of the crappy school cafeteria food. But Dean looks away before he and Cas might lock eyes.

 

Charlie's red hair is what caught is attention in the first place, but of course his eyes wandered over to Castiel immediately, who's wearing tight blue jeans and a black sweater today. Dean wrinkles his brow, already wondering why anyone would wear something long-sleeved when it's so hot outside. He greets his teeth when he realizes that he's thinking about Cas once again, even though he wants to stop doing this all the time. The gap between him and Cas is just getting bigger and bigger with every day that passes, so Dean should really stop wondering about him. But during today's lunch break, Dean doesn't have the time to get lost in thoughts of the blue-eyed boy again anyway.

 

The first punch comes out of the blue and hits his ribs on the right, knocking the air out of his lungs. The second punch comes from the other side and hits his head, rattling him and his thoughts. Dean doesn't even know what's happening and then he's already sprawled over the dirty floor of the cafeteria. He gets back up right away, ignoring the dizzy feeling in his head, but he gets shoved into the table as soon as he's standing again. The people around him gasp and stare at him and his attackers with wide eyes, being undecided about what to do.

 

But as soon as Dean recognizes Cole and Malachi as the ones who are attacking him, he knows exactly what he has to do and he makes short work. He hits Malachi's chin with his elbow and rams his fist in Cole's lower abdomen, enjoying how both of them grunt in pain and how Malachi's head is thrown back when Dean's elbow collides with his face. Dean is angry. He is always _so fucking angry_ and he's finally able to vent his spleen.

 

Dean isn't aware of all the people around them anymore and he doesn't even really notice that he collects some pretty fierce strokes himself. Though, he tastes blood in his mouth and something warm runs from his nose over his lips and his chin as a trickle. But he doesn't care about it. It just feels too damn good to land punch after punch on either Malachi or Cole; that feeling is blocking everything else out. Cole and Malachi are fighting back, but it's no use. They don't stand a chance against Dean right now, he's just too fucking angry. He's literally seeing red and _man_ , he might be fucked up, but this feels so good. And Dean wasn't even expecting a fight today and now he's so in for it, it's almost frightening.

 

He doesn't know for how long they're already fighting, probably for a few minutes or so, and during those minutes, he doesn't have to think and it's a bliss. Adrenaline is rushing through his veins and he just does it, he just beats the shit out of those two guys, and he's able to forget about everything else for a short while.

 

At some point though, the teacher who's supervising senior lunch and a few other teachers are able to separate the boys from each other. Dean doesn't want to stop fighting, no matter how much his knuckles are already hurting; he'll just continue to ignore the pain. He wants to continue inflicting much worse pain on Cole and Malachi. He wants to stay in this state of mind, where he doesn't have to think and where he's able to forget about all the shit that happened in his life so far. When he isn't able to think, he doesn't get reminded of how fucked up he really is.

 

God, he's _so_ fucked up.

 

But he can't find it in him to care about that at the moment, although everyone is looking at him as if he's crazy. They're looking at him with a mixture of fear and awe flittering over their faces, even the teachers. Dean realizes that it's one of the few times anyone has really seen him being involved in a fight. The most have some sort of respect in their eyes, and they all are likely to make some mental note to stay away from him and not to mess with him, or they'll end up like Cole and Malachi.

 

Malachi is only still standing, because a teacher is holding him up. His left eye is already swollen, the skin around it blue and red and purple, and he isn't able to open it. His nose is bleeding, there are several cuts on his face, a bruise on his chin and he's holding his ribs, where Dean rammed his knee _twice_. Cole is braver, but probably just because he's too stubborn and too proud and too much of a coward to hang his head in shame in front of Dean right now. He keeps his head held up high, showing off the big bruises on his temple and lower jaw. Blood is dripping from his lip and there's a cut on one of his eyebrows. Both Cole's and Malachi's knuckles are bruised and bloody, just like Dean's. But as Malachi is staring at the floor, Cole's eyes a fixated on Dean and there's pure rage burning in them. Dean just glares back, unimpressed and too pleased with himself to care about Cole's anger. After all, Cole is to blame that he's looking like that. He and Malachi attacked Dean; they started this. And they only got what they deserve.

 

All the teachers know that Dean is the one who got attacked, but he still has to go to the principal's office. That bugs him and he rolls his eyes, but he follows the teacher who has to make sure that he actually goes to see the principal. Meanwhile, Cole and Malachi have to go to the school nurse first. A satisfied grin flashes over Dean's face and he's sure that Cole saw it, since he's gritting his teeth.

 

But Dean is still angry when he's sitting on the chair in front of Mr. Richings' desk again. He wishes he had had more time to beat the shit out of Cole and Malachi – to let his anger out just a little bit more. He clenches his fists, examining his bruised knuckles and the dried blood that clings to his skin. Screwing up his nose, he looks back up at Mr. Richings, who hasn't said something since he asked him if he doesn't want to go to the school nurse. Dean simply shook his head at the question. He doesn't like doctors or nurses that much and though his face hurts, it's not as bad as it could be or has already been. He'll survive.

 

Mr. Richings keeps staring at him and slowly, Dean starts to feel uncomfortable, because he can't read the principal's eyes. He wishes he knew what he's thinking, but there's an unfathomable expression on Mr. Richings' face. So Dean just waits. Eventually, the principal leans forward in his chair, elbows resting on his desk, hands clasped. “You can go home for today, Dean. But again, you won't get suspended.“

 

Dean's eyebrows shoot up towards the ceiling in surprise. “What?“

 

“You are the one who got attacked. Everyone saw that. You defended yourself, and even though I disapprove that you got carried away doing that and didn't stop, I don't blame you.“

 

Dean swallows. He realizes that the principal could suspend him easily if he wanted to, but he decided against it. He wonders why. Dean doesn't want to be pitied by anyone, but he's not sure that that's Mr. Richings' motive.

 

“You can go now, Dean.“

 

Mr. Richings looks at him, but after a few seconds Dean shakes his head. “I want to stay.“

 

Again, Mr. Richings keeps silent for a few minutes before he allows him to stay. Dean nods and gets up, walking over to the door and already opening it, when the principal says his name. Dean looks over his shoulder.

 

Mr. Richings is looking at him thoughtfully. “Take care of yourself.“

 

Dean's brow wrinkles in confusion, but he regards the words with a nod and leaves the office. Biting the inside of his cheek, he heads for the nearest bathroom. He makes sure that he's alone in there, then he locks the door and finally has a proper look at his face.

 

 _Wow._ His face is a mess. His lip is split and when he darts his tongue out, carefully touching the relatively small wound, he screws up his nose. There's a scratch on his chin, but it will heal soon. Dean eyes the fat red-purple bruise on his right upper jaw, huffing a small humorless laugh and knowing pretty well that that won't heal quickly. He prods at it with his fingertips and winces. Yeah okay, that hurts like _a_ _bitch_.

 

Sighing, he grabs a paper towel and holds it briefly under cold water before he washes the blood off his face. He has to ascertain that the collar of his blue shirt that he's wearing under the usual flannel shirt is already stained a little with blood. But Dean doesn't really care, he just shrugs his shoulders and throws the paper towel away.

 

He feels better, even though the adrenaline left his body by now, and he smirks when he thinks of Cole and Malachi. _What two absolute idiots and cowards they are!_ They attacked him _two by two_ and still lost the fight. He scoffs and rolls his eyes, leaving the bathroom just when the bell rings, signaling the beginning of the next class. English – with Castiel.

 

A weird feeling rolls through him at the thought of Cas, but he shakes his head and ignores it, since he doesn't even know what it means. He doesn't really pay attention to the stares and all the whispers that seem to follow him through the hallways, but still, satisfaction spreads out in his body.

 

Dean enters the classroom and immediately all eyes are on him – that figures –, but he's only interested in one pair of eyes. Cas is already staring at him, the blue completely focused on him, and of course they lock eyes for a few seconds. Dean's heart _skips a beat_ when he notices that Cas' eyes are wandering over his face, taking in all the injuries before he looks away, and Dean curses it for that.

 

He sits down, knowing that his heart skipped a beat because of the odd expression in Castiel's eyes – a beautiful mixture of sadness, amazement, confusion and being impressed – and he starts to think about it right away, even though he doesn't want to.

 

 _Remember? You hate Castiel Novak_ , the small voice in his head scolds him and he grits his teeth, calling his mind's attention back to the fact that now, he has the status of a bad boy for sure.

 

When the lesson is over, Dean's the first who leaves the classroom. Slowly but surely, his bad mood comes back. Of course, it does. It always comes back, one way or another. And Dean _hates_ that.

 

He meets Sam in front of the school, who adjusts the straps of his overfull backpack when they start to leave the school grounds. Sam notices his bad mood but he doesn't mention it. Dean is sure that his little brother already heard about the fight, since everyone was talking about it in the hallways, but Sam doesn't ask about that either. He just eyes his bruised face very briefly, and Dean can practically feel him sighing inside.

 

Sam has already noticed his constant bad mood and his changed behavior in the last days, but Dean won't talk about it to him and slowly, Sam's mood worsens too.

 

_Fucking codependency._

 

Dean does know that he's not the only reason why Sam is also in a bad mood – after all, their dad is still drunk more often than not – but still, he's blaming himself. He knows Sam would be in a better mood, if his big brother was in a better mood as well. But Dean isn't and he isn't able to pretend he is, although he knows how much it sucks. And Sam wants to talk about it, because he loves those chick flick moments and heart to heart talks, but Dean just can't talk about this with Sam. He doesn't want to put this burden on Sam's already loaded shoulders. This is something he has to deal with on his own and Sam shouldn't worry about him, but of course he does.

 

Again, Dean tries to think of a way to stop thinking about Castiel finally, since the blue-eyed boy is the reason _he's_ in such a bad mood, because fucking hell, he _misses_ him.

 

He lights up a cigarette, ignoring the way Sam looks at him and at the glowing tip of the cigarette before sighing, and then he spots Alastair. He's just standing there, not very far from where they're walking, and he's returning Dean's look, a smug smirk staining his pale, sunken face.

 

Dean presses his brows together, confused and irritated for a few seconds, until he realizes that Alastair sent Cole and Malachi to beat him up, probably since he isn't able to afford to do something like that again. Dean returns the smirk; Alastair's plan didn't work. Cole and Malachi were the ones who had to see the school nurse, making sure that they don't need to go to the hospital. But why seems Al still so pleased with himself then?

 

Dean doesn't like the way Alastair is staring at him, so hungrily and possessively, as if he had every fucking right to look at Dean like that. But he doesn't, Dean thinks, and watches how Al's eyes start to drift to Sammy, calculating and still hungrily. Gritting his teeth, he grabs his little brother's arm and drags him along, picking up speed and not listening to Sam's protests. The quicker his little brother is out of Alastair's reach, so much the better. And though, Dean would like nothing more than to go over there and punch the smirk off Al's face, he and Sam leave and cross the road, heading home.

 

The next days, Dean is busy trying to ignore Alastair who keeps staring at him – not exactly unobtrusively – and also to ignore Cas who seems to be fucking _everywhere_. And Dean just can't stand seeing him at the moment.

 

He's telling himself that this gap between Cas and him is a good thing, because after all, it's what Cas wanted and after some time Dean wanted it too – what a _pathetic_ lie.

 

He _misses_ Cas so much and wants nothing more to make him smile again, to see those blue eyes light up again; damn it, since when he's such a fucking _sap_? He shouldn't give a fuck about Castiel Novak anymore, it's that simple. Hell, he doesn't _want_ to give a fuck about Castiel Novak anymore. He has enough problems, he doesn't need the blue-eyed boy to be one as well.

 

John is still drinking and that's a fucking _huge_ problem, although Dean is able to steal some beers or whiskey out of the fridge because of that from time to time. But he wishes he had something stronger anyway.

 

At the last school they went to, there was a guy who would get him weed every now and then. That was cool. Now, he only has cigarettes and alcohol and sometimes it's not really enough. Sometimes, he's craving something stronger, but he has no idea where to get something stronger here.

 

How can he forget about Cas? Dean wants to forget about him, but how is he supposed to get over this gorgeous boy, who hates him now? Dean just has no other explanation for why else Cas should just stop talking to him. Even though, he has no idea what he did that made Cas hate him.

 

A few days pass and then Dean sees Anna Milton at her locker in an otherwise empty hallway, since the bell rang already two minutes ago. She hastily puts another heavy textbook in her backpack and an idea hits Dean like lightning. _You want to forget about Novak?_ , the voice in his head pipes up. He screws up his nose, because he thinks he can't do this and he isn't sure if he really wants to do it, but the voice in his head is reminding him that he can't have Cas – and if he wants to get over him, he might as well get together with someone else. Dean isn't really convinced of that and already turned around again to go the other way, biting his lip, but then he's just like _fuck it_ and goes over to Anna.

 

She sees him walking towards her, slinging her backpack over one shoulder and looking at him questioningly. They haven't talked since Dean rejected her when she told him about her party. But Dean isn't planning on talking much now anyway, so he doesn't say something and just takes her backpack gently from her and puts it on the floor. Anna lets him guide her to the opposite wall, leaning against it, her lips curving up in a flirtatious smile. Dean gets closer, waiting for a few moments and making sure that he doesn't do this against her will.

 

But Anna kisses him first.

 

She puts her hands on his neck, on the back of his head, raking her fingers through his hair. Dean puts one hand on her waist and the other one on the side of her face automatically. They kiss for a few minutes, Dean pushes his tongue into her mouth and buries his fingers in her long red hair.

 

When they stop kissing, they're both a little out of breath and Dean looks into Anna's hazel eyes, searching for something inside of him. He has to feel something _for her_. But there's nothing. He doesn't feel anything for her. She's just a girl that thinks he's attractive and hell, she's beautiful but he knows a kind of gorgeousness now that's hard to top.

 

Dean feels weird, stepping back a bit, and Anna is still smiling up at him. Guilt drips from the back of his throat all the way to his stomach like acid. _Fuck._

 

She tugs a strand of her hair behind her ear, looking up at him through her lashes. “Well, Dean. I didn't know if you ever came around, but now... I'm already late for my next class. We'll talk later, okay? Okay.“ She walks around him, grabs her backpack and kisses him briefly before leaving for class, completely oblivious to his inner turmoil.

 

He grits his teeth, picking up his own backpack that he doesn't remember putting on the floor as well, and leaves too – just not for his next class. He leaves the building, he practically runs through the doors and outside, and then to a gas station straightaway. He buys a sixpack beer and more cigarettes, even though his pack is still almost full.

 

Dean goes home – John isn't there, thank god – and locks himself in his room, just in case John does come home. He doesn't remember what shift John has today, but does it really matter? He locked the door, so John isn't able to come into his room, without breaking the door open. Dean flops down on his bed, opening a beer and taking a big swig. He feels strangely _wired_ – it's unnerving.

 

He finishes the beer, just putting the empty bottle on the floor and lighting up a cigarette. He considers to open his window, but he doesn't want to get up. He puts his ashtray onto the bed and watches how the ashes fall into it, while trying not to think. He doesn't want to think about that Anna's eyes were hazel and _not blue_ and that he'd rather bury his fingers in _messy black hair_ than in her red hair and that he'd rather kiss _other lips_. Fuck fuck fuck.

 

So, this is what it feels like to kiss _the wrong person_.

 

When it's time for it, he throws the empty beer bottles away and empties the ashtray. He doesn't really want to, he wants to stay locked away in his room, but it's time to pick up Sammy from school. Dean doesn't want him to go home alone, not when Alastair could be there. Maybe he's watching Sam as well, maybe he knows that Sam is his little brother by now. Alastair seems obsessively interested in Dean and he has no idea why, but it grosses him out. He needs to protect Sammy and dear god, if Alastair ever _dares_ to lay a hand on Sam, Dean will rip him apart.

 

He waits for Sam in front of the school building, glad that there are no teachers around who could ask him why he missed his last classes. Sam comes outside and tells him on the walk home that he got an _A_ in his latest math test. Dean ruffles his shaggy hair – the kid really needs a haircut soon – and says he's proud of his little nerd. Sam smiles sheepishly.

 

John still isn't there when they enter the house and they go upstairs into Sam's room. Dean helps Sam with his Biology homework and then Sam urges him to learn some more for his upcoming exams. Dean grumbles a bit, but he's actually glad about the distraction. When he tries to memorize math formulas and facts about World War II`, he doesn't think about Castiel or how ``_wrong_`` it felt to kiss Anna.`

 

`Later, Dean fixes them a quick dinner, just some mac and cheese, and then they go to sleep. He's so fucking exhausted and he doesn't even know why. Thankfully, he falls asleep relatively quick, although he sleeps fitfully.`

 

`The next morning Anna comes over to him as soon as she sees him, and Dean sighs internally. A big grin makes her eyes glow and he wishes he could tell her something else than what he's going to tell her. She's a beautiful girl, but Dean feels nothing for her, at all.`

 

`“` `Hey, Dean,” she says, standing closer than she would normally. Dean is glad that she doesn't try to kiss him, though. “I wanted to know if you liked to come over to my house tonight. My parents are out of town again.“`

 

`There it is. A clear as fuck invitation – to fuck – and hell, Dean thinks he should say yes, but he just ` ` _can't_ ` `. When it already felt so wrong to kiss Anna, how would it feel to sleep with her? He'd probably be more than just ` ` _miserable_ ` ` after it, so no. He isn't going to do that.`

 

`He shakes his head. “No, I'm sorry, Anna.“`

 

`“` `You're busy tonight, or...?“ she asks, looking up at him questioningly.`

 

`Dean swallows. “No, I'm not busy. I just don't want to come over to your house tonight.“`

 

`“` `And why not?“ she asks snappishly. “We kissed yesterday. Where were you by the way? We wanted to talk later, but I didn't see you again.“`

 

`“` `Anna, listen. I know, we kissed and I started this, but to be honest, I acted on impulse.“`

 

`“` `That doesn't have to be a bad thing,” she says, trying to smile flirtatious again, but he can already see that she's beginning to realize where this is going. Dean smiles at her apologetically.`

 

`“` `Anna, I'm not really interested in you.“ He knows that it might be hard to hear those words, but then again, Anna doesn't seem to have any hard feelings for him. “Who says I'm actually interested in you? I just wanted to... you know what? Go fuck yourself. I'm ` ` _done_ ` ` with you.“`

 

`To be fair, this is the second time Dean has rejected her, even though he just kissed her yesterday. So he deserves this, but he also doesn't really care about Anna's words. They don't hurt him. And Anna isn't hurt either. Maybe he injured her pride, but that's all. Man, she is pissed and runs around with a sour face for the rest of the day, and apparently she doesn't want to talk to him ever again. It's all right with Dean, though.`

 

`He has enough to do with trying not to think about Castiel Novak all the time.`

 

`Dean wants to kiss Castiel. In fact, it's the only thing he is able to think about since he kissed Anna yesterday. He wants to kiss Castiel what will probably feel like a hundred times better than kissing Anna, just because it's ` ` _Cas_ ` `. He wants to run his fingers through Castiel's messy dark hair and feel his lips against his own. He just wants to grab the blue-eyed boy and kiss him until they both can't breathe, and he wants to do other things with Cas. Damn, this boy is fucking gorgeous and Dean can't deny that he already thought about that. Of course he did, with Castiel running around like that, just ` ` _existing_ ` ` , when of course Cas has to wear these fucking tight jeans every day that hug his legs – and his ass – just right, and it's doing all sorts of things to Dean.`

 

`He just didn't pay it too much mind, since Cas looked scared at Anna's party when it seemed like they were about to kiss, and after that they started to actually talk with each other and Dean ` ` thought ` ` they were going in ` ` _a certain direction_ ` `. And then Castiel just stopped talking to him.`

 

`And now, Dean can't really think of anything else than this boy and he absolutely hates it. It's driving him crazy. If it were someone else, he'd tell himself that it's just another boy – ` ` _who the fuck cares, right?_ ` ` – but this is Castiel Novak and he's fucking gorgeous, and it's not even funny.`

 

`Because he doesn't want to think about Cas anymore, he doesn't want to think ` ` _like that_ ` ` about Cas anymore, since it's of no use, and he wishes his dick would agree with him on that.`

 

`Fucking hell, he's not a horny teenager anymore, so could he ` ` _please_ ` ` stop acting like one? And he isn't some 15-year-old girl with an unrequited crush on some boy, who thinks because of that the world is ending – although sometimes it does feel like that. But he doesn't want to think about that too much. After all, he's Dean fucking Winchester.`

 

`Sam is trying to draw his attention more to the upcoming exams and Dean is learning a lot, mostly at night because lately, he isn't really able to sleep anyway.`

 

`Dean has trouble sleeping easy and falling asleep in the first place. This is also a problem in the night before his first exam – math, of all things – and as always, no matter if he's drunk or sober, he feels the desire to jump into the ocean. Really, it's stupid but he longs for the fucking ocean so much. He just wants to see it and be embraced by it, and to calm down and to breathe in its closeness. God, it's so silly and downright ridiculous, and it makes him mad, since he knows for sure that he doesn't actually means ` ` _the ocean_ ` ` – he's talking about Castiel and his ocean blue eyes.`

 

`Dean wouldn't mind drowning in them at all, if it just meant that Cas were there, and it kind of scares him. He ` ` _craves_ ` ` the ocean – Cas – so fucking much; he just hates it. He doesn't want it, but he isn't able to stop it. It's just getting worse and worse. That has to be unhealthy.`

 

`And he should be kind of happy, since he finally has the bad boy reputation he wanted. But now, he wants something else and he can't have it and it just sucks.`

 

`He rolls onto his side, pressing his face into the pillow and tucking his hands under it. He sighs. ` ` _Just why do Castiel's eyes have to be this fucking gorgeous blue?_ `

 

`When his alarm wakes him up, Dean's already in a bad mood. John has an early shift today, so it's just him and Sam, quietly eating cereals for breakfast. They walk to school and before they enter the building and part ways, Sam wishes him the best of luck. Dean can just nod and smile halfheartedly at his little brother, and when he walks through the hallways, he's already scowling again.`

 

`He hates it but his heart calms down a bit, when he sees Cas standing in a hallway, together with Garth and Kevin. Later, he sees him in the room where the exam takes place. And of course, Dean has to sit in a way where he's able to see Cas, but Cas isn't able to see him.`

 

`Castiel is gorgeous. It's that simple actually. And it's just ` ` _a_ ` ` _fact_ ` `. His dark hair is as messy as always, and some strands stick out at strange angles like he has just climbed out of bed – it's natural sex hair. Cas is cupping his chin in one hand, the elbow resting just below the sheets of paper on his desk, and with the other hand he's writing. Dean can see that his brow is wrinkled just slightly and he's moving his lips silently when he reads his answers through.`

 

`Cas is cute and he is gorgeous and just everything Dean wants at the moment.`

 

`He looks down on his own sheets of paper, swallowing and finishing to write down an answer. He should concentrate on this exam before he pops a boner right there and then. That would be a little hard to explain.`

 

`Biting his lip, he skims through the rest of the questions and a small smile sneaks on his lips. He knows the answers. He knows how to solve these math problems. Relief fills his chest and he looks up one more time to glance at Cas before he starts writing again.`

 

`He does better on the exam than he thought he would and he is glad about that. Dean leaves the classroom with a good feeling, thinking when the math exam went so well, the other exams will be a piece of cake as well. But his good mood doesn't last very long – as he should have expected. He sees Castiel leaving the school together with Garth and suddenly he's angry.`

 

`Why is he ` ` _always_ ` ` so angry? He can feel the rage in every cell of his body, it sets his nerve endings on fire, but in an more than just unpleasant way. It's practically ` ` _hurting_ ` `. Dean clenches his jaw, leaving the school building and without thinking about it, he takes his anger out on the next jock he sees before going home.`

 

`Sam continues to learn with him, asking him questions and helping him to make flashcards with important facts to several topics. They call Bobby, telling him about how school is going and that John still spends most of their money on cheap spirits. Dean gets drunk on the weekend and John shouts at him for something they both can't remember the next day. John is drunk himself and Dean doesn't understand half of the words he's saying. Sam waits patiently for the fight to be over and it only ends after John pushed Dean so hard against the kitchen counter that there's a bruise ` ` _embellishing_ ` ` his ribcage. It knocks the air out of Dean's lungs for a moment and John uses it to disappear into his bedroom, slamming his door shut and locking it behind him. Sam helps Dean upstairs, briefly examining the bruise before letting his brother lie down onto his bed.`

 

`His drunken mind feels hazy and he mumbles something, seeing Sam's forehead creasing in confusion. “Sleep, Dean,” Sam sighs and leaves the room, closing the door quietly. Dean rolls onto his back, thinking how the hell he's supposed to sleep but then he's already falling off that edge and his eyes slip close.`

 

`Dean dreams of the ocean, warm water surrounding his body as he swims, feeling like soft hands gently touching his skin. The water is ` ` _so_ ` ` _blue_ ` ` and Dean dives into it until he's completely underwater. He keeps his eyes open and everything seems so intense and man, he's in love with this color. He just wants to stay here, even when there's not enough air in his lungs anymore. Maybe he shouldn't fight it. It doesn't have to be a bad thing – to die surrounded by so much beauty. At least, he will die in peace. And the water warms him and it doesn't matter that his lungs are screaming for air, because he barely notices it. But then he blinks and suddenly he's awake again, staring at his bedroom ceiling instead of the blue ocean.`

 

`Dean feels strange. He smacks his lips. Did he just have a dream where he was drowning and he ` ` _enjoyed_ ` ` it? Maybe he's even more fucked up than he originally thought. He runs his fingers through his hair, concentrating on breathing even. What the hell is just wrong with him?`

 

`He's halfway through with the exams and so looking forward to finally graduating, when he meets Gadreel and Castiel in one of the bathrooms at school after another exam. He wants to wait for Sam to be through with his classes for today and to go to the park with him, since John has a day off today. And neither of them is very keen of spending more time with their father than necessary.`

 

`It only figures that he has to run into Castiel of all things, Dean thinks. Gadreel just washed his hands, drying them with a paper towel now, and he looks up when Dean enters the room, the door closing behind him with a slight creak. Gadreel grimaces when he sees Dean and keeps scowling at him. But Dean doesn't pay that a lot of mind, because Cas is staring at him and in a weird way. Dean licks his lips. A really sad expression lingers on Castiel's face for a few seconds before he's able to hide it from Dean. He looks at the blue-eyed boy questioningly, trying to figure out what's going on in Cas' head, but he already put on his mask that shields all his emotions from Dean.`

 

`All of a sudden, Dean feels the urge to talk with Cas. It's a loud grumble deep inside of him. He wants to sort everything out and then he wants to make out with Castiel, forgetting about everything bad that ever happened between them, since they just made everything right. The urge burns so intensively inside of him that he even forgets about Gadreel being right there for a moment.`

 

`But then Gadreel says something and Dean's eyes and also his attention snap back to him. “What you're staring at, douchebag?“`

 

`Man, Dean ` ` _really_ ` ` doesn't like this guy.`

 

`“` `Whatever do you want?“ Dean asks aggressively, already dropping his backpack to the floor and being ready for a fight. Gadreel steps closer, eyebrows pressed together angrily, and he seems to be in for it as well, throwing his paper towel away. Dean wants to beat the shit out of this guy, just like he did with Cole and Malachi. As always he doesn't care that he shouldn't project his anger onto random people who don't do much more than looking askant at him.`

 

`But Castiel steps between them swiftly and Dean doesn't know what to think, because they're standing so close suddenly. He and Cas weren't so close for a really long time and it silences his mind and even his anger a bit. Dean curses himself, because fucking shit, ` ` _really_ ` `?`

 

`He even almost misses how Cas says to Gadreel, “Go. I got this.“`

 

`Dean's forehead creases in confusion. What? Why is Cas stepping in? ` ` _Again?_ `

 

`Gadreel looks confused for a moment as well and then he's looking angrily at Dean again, but he does actually leave. When the door closes with a click, Dean realizes he's alone with Castiel. They haven't been alone for weeks and an odd warm starts to bloom in Dean's chest, no matter how coldly Cas is looking at him. He just missed the ocean and it doesn't matter that it's frozen right now, even though Dean wants to see it thaw again.`

 

`Dean swallows and asks the first thing that comes to his mind. “What are you doing?“`

 

`Cas stares at him, suddenly seeming uncertain, as if he didn't know himself what he's doing, why he told Gadreel to leave. Dean huffs a small breath and runs his fingers through his hair, tugging briefly at the brown strands.`

 

`When he looks into Castiel's blue eyes again, he ` ` _almost_ ` ` spills. He almost tells him how much he's missing him. The words are already on the tip of his tongue, wanting nothing more than to get out, but Dean swallows them, ignoring the bad taste they're leaving in his mouth. Fuck.`

 

`He walks past Castiel, in order not to look at him for a few moments. He wants to pretend that he needs to wash his hands, but he doesn't make it to a sink. Cas grabs him abruptly and dashes him against the wall, putting his forearm against Dean's throat immediately to keep him in place.`

 

`Dean stares at him, slightly shocked but actually more surprised than anything. Cas is even closer now, there are only a few inches between them and he can feel the warmth radiating off Cas. Dean thinks about his recent dream, where he almost drowned in the warm ocean. He doesn't know how to feel. All he knows is that he likes having Castiel so close to him. This isn't like when Alastair attacked him; Dean isn't disgusted and he isn't afraid. The way Cas is standing so close, bodies just ` ` _almost_ ` ` pressing together, and how he's holding him up against the wall – ` ` _it's hot._ `

 

`Thank god, he doesn't blush when he remembers how he jerked off to thoughts about the blue-eyed boy in front of him just last night. He knows – ` ` _fucking hell, really?_ ` ` He's already done this a couple of times by now and he should feel disgusted with himself, but he can't help it. It's the only way he can have Castiel and it sucks and it's fucked up, but it feels so good. He is able to get so lost in thoughts of Cas and he doesn't have to think about the consequences for a while. He only does this when he's done. And the consequences are that he's even more attached to this boy, but he doesn't know how to stop. It's so stupid and weird. He has never felt like this before. He has never felt these feelings for a person before and he wants it to stop. But how is he supposed to do that?`

 

`The voice in his head starts to speak yet again. ` ` _Hey, remember? You_ ` ` hate` ` _him. And no, you don't want to kiss him right now._ `

 

`That's not true, of course. Dean wants to kiss Cas. He wants to kiss him all the time.`

 

`It seems to make Cas unsure that Dean is so calm and relaxed, although he just hurled him against the wall and is still pressing him against it. His eyes wander over Dean's face questioningly, but Dean isn't scared of Cas. His inner turmoil is caused by different feelings than fear. And he takes advantage of Castiel's sudden uncertainty, without thinking about it.`

 

`He flips them over, so Castiel is the one whose back is pressed against the wall and now Dean is the one who's pressing him against the wall – and that doesn't feel so bad either, fucking hell.`

 

`Cas looks at him, startled and maybe a bit scared, since his eyes widen just a little when his back hits the wall and his breath hitches for a moment. But he doesn't say something. And Dean puts his hands on each side of Cas' head, and now he's also the one who doesn't know what to do.`

 

`God, he wants to kiss Castiel so badly. Can't he just do that and then everything's ` ` _fine_ ` `? Maybe all his other problems will be magically fixed, if he just kissed Cas. Okay, that's too much. But he's sure all his other problems won't matter as much anymore, if he could just have Castiel.`

 

`“` `Dean?“ Cas asks quietly, carefully, and they just stare at each other and Dean thinks Cas can see every little emotion that's flickering over his face and all his insecurities that seem to be plastered on his skin right now. He feels uncomfortable because of that, but also ` ` _so comfortable_ ` ` because Castiel is so close. And Dean still doesn't know what to do.`

 

`But he notices that Castiel relaxes, just slightly, and he doesn't seem to be scared anymore. He returns is look questioningly and the sad expression is back in his eyes.`

 

`Why is Cas sad? Because Dean wants to kiss him and it's so painfully obvious? Or because Dean still hasn't kissed him? Dean searches for the answer to that question, but he only sees the sadness deep in Castiel's blue eyes, darkening the blue marginally.`

 

`What should he do? What is he supposed to do? What's the right thing to do? What does he ` ` _want_ ` ` to do? And why is everything always so fucking complicated? Why can't he just have Cas? Why can't he just be ` ` _a good person_ ` ` and` ` _good enough_ ` ` for the blue-eyed boy?`

 

`And what if Cas doesn't even want to kiss him? What if Dean is making their whole situation even more painful and also awkward right now?`

 

` _But what if Cas_ ` ` wants` ` _to kiss him?_ `

 

`Dean hates this so much; what the fuck is he supposed to do? Why are there only questions and no answers in his head? Why was it so easy to say ` ` _fuck it_ ` ` and just walk over to Anna Milton and to kiss her? Why can't he just do this right now and kiss Castiel?`

 

`Because Anna was the wrong person and Cas is the right person. Because Cas is special and means something. He is gorgeous and Dean ` ` _wants to kiss him_ ` `. Dean wants him. That's why it's so fucking hard. Because Cas is worth something. But not Dean. He is ` ` _too good_ ` ` for Dean. Dean's not enough for him. Cas deserves so much more, so much better than Dean.`

 

`So, why is he still staring back at Dean without saying a word? And why the fuck is he looking so sad? He could have pushed Dean away and just leave, but he stayed. Why? A small spark of hope settles in his heart, even though Dean doesn't want it to.`

 

`Maybe he should just risk it. It can't get even worse, right?`

 

`All of a sudden, the door opens with a loud bang. The one who opened it did it so violently that the door crashes against the wall. Dean and Cas both jump in surprise and back away from each other a bit, looking at the boy who's entering the bathroom with a big grin on his face.`

 

`Alastair.`

 

`“` `Well, look what the cat dragged in,” he says, biting his lip. Dean feels his anger coming back just at the sight of Al. “Fuck off, Alastair,” he says fretfully. Hell, he was so close to finally kiss Castiel. What is Al even doing here?`

 

`Dean looks at Cas, who doesn't look any less angry. But there's also a glimmer of suspicion in his eyes as he glares at Alastair. Dean looks at Al warily, remembering all the times he caught him staring at him with his cold eyes. He's sure by now that Alastair spends far too much time watching him and maybe even thinking about him. But he doesn't know what Al wants from him. And now Alastair is also looking so weirdly – so stalker like – at Castiel. What the hell is just wrong with this guy?`

 

`Al clicks is tongue at Dean's rude words and tone of voice, shaking his head slightly, grinning and staring at them – like a freaking ` ` _psychopath_ ` `.`

 

`Cas steps in front of Dean, slowly and calmly, as if he doesn't want to show all of his emotions to Alastair, but he's still looking at Al skeptically. He has raised one eyebrow, glaring at Alastair, and once again, Dean can understand why Al is only the runner-up and why Castiel is at the top of the hierarchy. And now that this glare isn't directed at Dean, he has the chance to admire it. Cas looks even hotter. He truly looks like a bad boy, a badass. Dean bites the inside of his cheek, knowing that this isn't the right time to think about something like that, but he just can't help it.`

 

`“` `What do you want, Alastair?“ Cas asks in a low voice, menacingly and boredly at the same time.`

 

`Al looks from Dean to Castiel, both questioningly and calculating. Dean's sure Al also noticed that Cas stepped in front of Dean. Dean just doesn't know what it means. And he doesn't know if Alastair has seen them, how they stood against the wall, so close together, ` ` _almost_ ` ` kissing. That still pisses Dean off and he still wants to kiss Cas. But does it matter if Alastair has seen them like this? Does it matter to Al?`

 

`Apparently, ` ` _yes_ ` ` – somehow at least.`

 

`“` `So, you're talking to each other again?“ Alastair asks with a smirk.`

 

`Dean shoots a glance at Cas, who's clenching his fists and suddenly looks like he's about to attack Alastair. He doesn't understand this shift in Cas' expression, but he does understand that they shouldn't start a fight here. He liked nothing more than to inflict as much pain as possible on Alastair, but he has a weird feeling in his stomach – it's like his subconsciousness is trying to tell him that it would be wrong. Dean goes with his gut.`

 

`Carefully, he puts a hand in front of Cas without touching him, just holding his hand a few inches away from his torso, but stepping a bit closer to him so he's able to look in his eyes properly. Castiel tears his eyes away from Alastair and looks at him. Dean shrugs his shoulders, glancing briefly at Al.`

 

`“` `He's not worth it. Let's just go.“`

 

`He doesn't look over at Alastair to see the reaction to his words. He keeps his eyes on Castiel's face. Cas creases his forehead slightly and hesitates noticeable, but then he inhales and nods. Dean nods as well and they go past Alastair, who's squinting at them, to the door.`

 

`Dean picks up his backpack on the way and his hand is already on the doorknob, when he sees a sudden movement next to him. One of Al's bony hands wraps around Cas' upper arm, holding him back and then pulling at his arm quickly without a warning and punching Castiel in the face. Cas' nose starts to bleed immediately and he groans, but Dean didn't hear it break.`

 

`He drops his backpack again, grabbing Alastair who's grinning idly at Cas' bloody nose, and pushes him hard against the wall next to the door. Cas wipes the blood under his nose with the back of his hand a bit, but a small stream already ran down over his lips and chin, so he's smearing the blood more over the bottom half of his face. He gently grabs Dean's wrists, who lets go of Alastair's collar and let's Cas draw him aside. Dean watches how Cas just stares at Al for a moment, angrily and somehow patronizingly. A small smirk is playing on Castiel's lips and he glances at Dean before he hauls off and lands an impressive punch across Alastair's jaw, who's head connects with the wall behind him. Al growls, glaring at Castiel with pure hatred now.`

 

`“` `Fuck off,” Cas tells him, his voice low and gravelly and dangerously. “And now go, or you'll regret it.“`

 

`Cas is still standing very close to Alastair – ` ` _too close_ ` ` for Dean's liking, but he just bites the inside of his cheek a little harder and doesn't say something, because Cas seems to know what he's doing – and for a moment, they just glare at each other. Dean tries not to look too amazed at Cas, but holy shit, ` ` _he is in awe_ ` ` by the blue-eyed boy. And he likes to think, when he's alone with Castiel again, he can just push him gently against the locked door and kiss him until they forget that Alastair ever interrupted them in the first place.`

 

`Al's smirk is gone by now, but he does actually leave, glancing to and fro between Cas and Dean. Dean stares at the closed door for a moment after Alastair left the room. Cas just turns around and goes over to the sinks, grabbing a paper towel and wetting it, looking in the mirror. He washes the blood off his face and his hand, but there's a strange twinkle in his eyes. It unsettles Dean.`

 

`He swallows and bites his lip. He stares at Cas and knows that he doesn't have the guts to do what he wants to do – to kiss Castiel, to push him against the wall and make out with him. It just doesn't feel right to do this right now. There's something else that's more important.`

 

`“` `Are you okay?“ Dean asks, not stopping to look at Castiel. He's actually just glad that Cas isn't running away from him again. But then Cas returns his look and Dean has a lump in his throat. For two seconds, Castiel allows Dean to see his brokenness and he doesn't have to answer Dean's question anymore, since the look in his eyes says it all.`

 

`“` `I'm sorry,” Cas says quietly, tilting his head a little bit and looking at Dean. “Believe me, I am sorry.“`

 

`He throws the paper towel away and walks past Dean, leaving the room. Dean is confused and stares at the place where Cas just stood a few seconds ago. But he doesn't follow Castiel.`

 

` _For what did Cas just apologize?_ `

 

`The next days whenever they see each other and lock eyes, it feels differently again. Dean knows something has changed, but he can't quite grasps it. He does realize that Cas (probably) apologized for stopping to talk to him without giving him an explanation. But what does it all mean?`

 

`They did almost kiss – again, just like at Anna's party, but it was even more intense – and Dean doesn't know how to feel. He still wants to kiss Cas and he's still angry at Al for interrupting them. Maybe he would have kissed Cas, if Alastair didn't dash into the room.`

 

`Did Castiel want to kiss him too, or not? Does he think about him, too? Does he miss him, too? He ` ` _is sorry_ ` ` for ditching Dean like he did. And Cas ` ` _relaxed_ ` ` when Dean stood so close to him. He relaxed and he stayed there, waiting for whatever Dean would decide to do. But Dean didn't have the chance to make a decision with Alastair barging in. He'd like to think that he would have kissed Cas at some point, that he would have just done it.`

 

`But, ` ` _now what?_ ` ` Should he just go to Castiel and try to talk to him? He doesn't know. But Dean decides to stop pretending to himself that he hates Castiel Novak. It didn't really work anyway, though it still feels like a huge burden is lifted from his shoulders. He can admit, at least to himself, that he likes Cas – a lot. Maybe it's even a crush. Hell, it's ` ` _definitely_ ` ` a crush. Yeah, he has a crush on the blue-eyed boy, but how couldn't he? Dean is bisexual and Cas is the most gorgeous boy that ever walked the earth. ` ` _Of course_ ` ` , he has a crush on him.`

 

`But his bisexuality doesn't tell him what he's supposed to do now.`

 

`Sam tries again to ask what he's always thinking about. He seems to notice that Dean's mood changed somehow once again. Dean doesn't know how to tell him. He's not out to his little brother yet, so Sam doesn't know he's bi.`

 

`He bites his lip, looking at Sam who's sitting on his desk chair and just finished his homework. Sam raises his eyebrows. Dean sighs, crossing his legs where he's sitting on Sam's bed.`

 

`“` `I like someone,” he says hesitantly, glancing at Sam. Sam's face lights up immediately. “Who is it?“ he asks with a grin.`

 

`Dean scoffs, shaking his head. “As if I'm going to tell you that.“`

 

`Sam purses his lips, but he seems to know that Dean won't tell him who it is. So he thinks of another question. “Does she know?“`

 

`Dean smiles a little, and for now he rolls with the wrong pronouns. “No, I haven't told her.“`

 

`“` `Why not?“ Sam asks curiously.`

 

`Dean huffs a breath, throwing a pillow at Sam. Sam catches it with a snort. “I can't just go up to her and tell her.“`

 

`His little brother cocks his head. “But how is she supposed to know then?“`

 

`Dean ponders over that for a moment. He thinks that Cas already knows, or at least assumes, that Dean likes him. But then again... “Maybe I don't want her to know.“`

 

`“` `Doesn't that suck?“`

 

`He huffs a small humorless laugh. “Yeah, it's... it's complicated, I guess.“`

 

`“` `Do you think she doesn't like you back?“ Sam wonders, biting his lip. Dean returns his look, shrugging his shoulders. “I'm not sure about that,” he says, and it's true. He has no idea what goes on in Castiel's head, whether Cas likes him back or not. Sometimes he thinks there's no way Cas could ever like him, and then there are moments like the one in the bathroom at school and he thinks – he ` ` _hopes –_ ` ` that Cas does like him back.`

 

`Sam smiles at him, throwing the pillow back to him. “If you tell her, you'll know.“`

 

`Dean nods halfheartedly. The way Sam says this, it sounds so easy. But Sam doesn't even know half the details. Dean knows that it isn't this easy.`

 

`Sam looks out the window briefly; it's dark outside, the street light illuminates the asphalt in an orange glow. Dean rubs his face, glancing at Sam's alarm clock on the nightstand. It's shortly after midnight. John left the house a few hours ago and Dean assumes he'll be back maybe around 3 or 4 am.`

 

`“` `So, that's why you're in a bad mood lately?“ Sam asks carefully, biting the inside of his cheek. Dean shoots his little brother a small glance and then looks at his hands. “Yeah,” he says quietly. His guilty conscience pipes up and he feels bad. Because he was in a bad mood, Sam was in a bad mood often as well. It wasn't fair to Sam. Dean is the big brother; he has to act like a big brother. He's supposed to be there for his little brother, and not to be the reason why he's in a bad mood.`

 

`“` `Hey, let's go to bed,” Dean says, after a few moments of silence and Sam just nods, packing up his stuff. They brush their teeth quickly and Dean tucks Sam into bed, thinking that his little brother is slowly getting too old for this. But Sam doesn't seem to mind, wishing Dean a good night and closing his eyes when Dean turns off the light and closes his bedroom door. Dean walks into his own room, letting his body fall into bed and sighing.`

 

`The last exams pass by in a blur and Dean is busy with learning, thinking about a certain blue-eyed boy, being a better big brother, retaining his bad boy reputation and keeping an eye on Alastair (who didn't approach him again so far). But he still hasn't talked to Castiel. He doesn't know what he should even say. Or if he should just kiss him finally. He's bad at making decisions and it sucks.`

 

`Sam tried a few times to find out who it is that Dean likes, but Dean didn't tell him. He doesn't think that Sam will be mad at him or stop talking to him when he tells him he's also into boys. But coming out isn't easy. And Dean doesn't know how to start this conversation with his brother. So, he just smiles whenever Sam tells him ` ` _to_ ` ` _just talk to her_ ` `.`

 

`Dean really wishes it were that easy, that he just could go over to Cas, talk to him and tell him that he likes him, and that he wants to kiss him. If he knew what Cas is thinking about him and the whole situation, maybe then he'd do it. If he knew for sure that Cas does like him back, then he'd definitely do it. But he doesn't know what Cas is thinking and it doesn't look like Cas is going to make the first step and talk to him either. Since Cas apologized in the bathroom, they only locked eyes every now and then, but they didn't exchange any words.`

 

`When Dean hears that he passed all his exams with relatively good grades, his mood brightens so much that he thinks ` ` _maybe he'll talk to Cas during prom_ ` `.`

 

`But again, things are getting worse and Dean really, ` ` _really_ ` ` shouldn't be surprised anymore.`

 

`He comes home with Sam after the graduation ceremony and he still can't really believe that he actually graduated, that he's actually done with school for good. He's still in a relatively good mood when they enter the house and hell, maybe he's going to kiss Castiel tonight. That's a very good reason to be in a good mood, isn't it?`

 

`But his good mood starts to fade when he spots John in the kitchen, drinking straight out of a bottle of Jack Daniel's. John glares at them, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Dean's first thought is that their dad is home early – he had a morning shift, a perfect excuse not to come to Dean's graduation ceremony. Dean didn't mind it, because Sam was there and that was enough for him.`

 

`He squints at the clock and realizes that John isn't just home early – he's ` ` _too_ ` ` early. He shouldn't be here already, he should still be at work. Dean has a presentiment and he looks at John and at the bottle in his hand warily.`

 

`“` `Hey, dad,” Sam greets him, eyeing the bottle in John's hand as well. He darts Dean a brief glance and they're both just waiting for the inevitable. They don't have to wait very long, though. John is silent for a few moments, swaying a bit, and then he puts the bottle on the counter and looks at them.`

 

`“` `I got fired today.“`

 

`Dean feels the disappointment washing over him and clinging to his skin, even though his brain needs a few seconds to catch up to what his dad just told them. Nevertheless, his heart is dropping right away.`

 

`“` `Five months. That has to be a new record,” Sam says bitterly, loud enough for everyone to hear. John's eyes start to wander over to Sam and Dean is already getting ready to hold John back, thinking of things he could say to calm his dad down again. It's not like he doesn't agree with Sam's words, it's just that he knows they will make John angry. And John looks really furious for a moment, reasons enough for Dean to step in front of Sam to protect him. There's the usual rage burning in John's eyes, but it's weirdly dull and only lasts for a few seconds. It just flickers out, like a candle that got blown out by the wind. John's shoulders slump as soon as the rage disappears from his eyes. Without another word their father walks past them, not looking at them anymore, and locks himself in his bedroom.`

 

`Dean looks after their dad, confused and also angry. John got fired – once again. He wonders where do they go from here. It was only a matter of time until John would lose his job again – they all knew that – but now that it has actually happened, it feels strange. It feels differently from all the other countless times when John has lost his job. Usually, there was always a fight, John was always angry at everything, so he would shout at everything while drinking until passing out. But now, he didn't throw a fit. Maybe he's postponing it, although it would be the first time.`

 

`They go upstairs and into Sam's room after a few minutes, when John doesn't come out of his bedroom again. Dean locks the door, in case John wakes up and wants to vent his spleen a bit. It sucks, but he won't go to prom tonight. He can't leave Sam alone with John, not when nobody knows what their father is going to do.`

 

`Sam smiles at him apologetically before he starts to write something down in a notebook. Dean flops down on Sam's bed and waits. He's waiting for John to wake up and start throwing their furnishings around. He's waiting for John to come upstairs, yelling their names and banging his fist against the door. He's tensed, but he has to be ready when John gets controlled by his fit of rage again. He has to protect his little brother.`

 

`The afternoon drags on and Sam keeps writing and drawing in the notebook, and Dean keeps staring at the ceiling until it starts to get dark outside and Dean's stomach starts to growl. He bites his lip, but Sam is hungry as well and they haven't heard anything from John so far, so Dean sneaks downstairs and hastily throws together a few sandwiches. They both feel better with a full stomach and around 11 pm Sam crawls into bed next to Dean and falls asleep a few minutes later.`

 

`Dean needs longer to fall asleep – as always actually – and he's still waiting for John to do something, but nothing happens. Their dad doesn't come out of his room. He doesn't start throwing a fit. He doesn't shout and demands to see them, so he can take his anger out on them. None of the usual stuff happens and it almost freaks Dean out even more.`

 

`He's pissed off because he missed prom and his chance to kiss Castiel, although a tiny voice in the back of his head is asking if it weren't for the better anyway. Maybe Cas doesn't want to kiss Dean and Dean ` ` _has_ ` ` _just_ ` ` _imagined_ ` ` all these little indications that he might want to kiss him. He didn't get a lot of sleep last night and his mind is almost an even bigger mess than normally.`

 

`The Impala is still standing in the driveway the next morning and they hear loud snoring that's coming out of John's room. Sam scoffs at that, muttering under his breath that at least one of them is getting some peaceful sleep. Dean scoffs as well and they eat toast with Nutella and cheese strings for breakfast in comfortable silent – apart from John's snoring, but they just try to ignore that.`

 

`After they cleaned up the kitchen, Dean sighs and grabs his phone, dialing Bobby's phone number. `

 

`“` `Thought I wouldn't hear anything from you again,” Bobby answers the call grumpily.`

 

`Dean bites the inside of his cheek, realizing that he hasn't called Bobby for a while. He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Sorry about that, Bobby,” he says.`

 

`“` `Don't mention it. Why you're calling now? What happened?“ Bobby says, and Dean imagines that Bobby just shrugged his shoulders.`

 

`“` `Dad got fired,” Dean says unceremoniously.`

 

`“` `Well, that's a good reason to call.“`

 

`“` `You don't sound very surprised,” Dean notices.`

 

`“` `Why would I be surprised? Are you surprised that he got fired?“ Bobby wonders.`

 

`“` `No, not really,” Dean admits quietly.`

 

`“` `You see? I'm more surprised that he kept the job for so long,” Bobby scoffs. Dean huffs a small breath. “What now, boy? What are you going to do?“`

 

`“` `I don't know,” Dean says, telling Bobby how John locked himself in his bedroom yesterday and hasn't come out since then. `

 

`“` `Maybe he'll finally get his act together.“`

 

`“` `Do you really believe that, Bobby?“ Dean asks, wrinkling his forehead. Bobby is silent for a second, then he huffs a small humorless laugh. “No, not really,” he says.`

 

`Dean doesn't know what else to say on the topic of his alcoholic father, so he tells Bobby all about the graduation ceremony. Bobby is proud of him and he tells him that. Dean feels better, hearing these words. It means a lot to him, more than he'd like to admit. “Thanks, Bobby,” he mumbles.`

 

`The summer holidays start and it's all feeling so strangely and insanely odd, because Dean knows that he won't go back to school in a few weeks. He didn't really think that he'd actually graduate with the grades he did, and he didn't apply to any colleges. He doesn't know what will be in a few weeks and he's not so sure if he wants to know it.`

 

`Sam keeps asking where do they go from here – if they are going to move again. Dean isn't able to answer his little brother's questions, because he doesn't know it either.`

 

`John keeps behaving differently and they don't know what to expect. Their father doesn't come out of his bedroom for anything else than going to the bathroom and to get something to eat once in a while, and he always ensures that neither Dean nor Sam is setting eyes on him.`

 

`And that again keeps Dean on edge. John behaves almost like a deer that wants to prevent at all costs to be caught in the headlights. He never did something like that before. John Winchester is always eager to fight, he never avoids any confrontations. What's wrong with him now? What's so different this time?`

 

`Dean has absolutely no idea what John is going to do next, but he has the feeling that John doesn't know that either. It irritates Dean. He wonders why everything has to be so different in this town, and why things aren't the way they always used to be. Dean just needs a certain routine. He doesn't like it when things are changing. And now, so many things are different than usual, so many things have changed all at once.`

 

`He waits a couple of days to see if John falls back into his normal behavior. But it doesn't happen. So one night Dean tucks Sam into bed and goes into the kitchen, sitting down on one of the chairs around the table. He'll wait for John to come out of his room and then they'll talk. They ` ` _have_ ` ` to talk.`

 

`Dean went to the park with Sam or they walked into the forest in the last days, but not too far since it would have sucked to get lost. Dean remembers the one time in winter when he got lost in the forest, shortly after they've moved here. It was a bummer and he wants to spare Sam of collecting this experience.`

 

`Around 2 am John emerges from his room and comes into the kitchen, wearing old sweatpants and a t-shirt with several holes in it. He squints at Dean, but doesn't say something. Dean watches him going to the fridge and opening it, and he sighs. “Dad, can we talk?“`

 

`John doesn't answer, but rather rummages through the fridge, taking the milk carton and sniffing at the milk. Dean rubs his eyes – he's tired, but he knows he can't give up so easily. “Dad?“ he tries again, speaking louder this time. John turns around and glares at him, but he puts the milk back into the fridge and closes the fridge door. Dean bites his lip, but he thinks he's allowed to continue speaking. He simply asks John if they are going to move again.`

 

`John seems to think about that, his forehead creasing, and he looks at his son for a long moment. “No,” he replies just as simply, but sternly. Then, he goes back to his bedroom, locking the door behind him once again. Dean stays in the kitchen, feeling puzzled and helpless. He has a few hours until Sam is going to wake up and in the early hours of the morning, he makes a decision.`

 

`John doesn't come out of his room again that night and Dean doesn't get a wink of sleep, but he announces to Sam that he's going to get a job. His little brother isn't surprised by that, he just nods, biting his lip. “Yeah, we need the money,” he says. `

 

`Dean agrees; they don't have any real food in the fridge anymore and all Dean has left are 20 dollars in his wallet. He doesn't know if John has any money somewhere in his bedroom, but he figures that that's not very likely.`

 

`He looks at Sam and then at the floor, sighing. That he'll get a job, that's a given and not the decision he made last night. What he decided has to do with Sam and it sucks, but he knows it will be the best for his little brother. Sam looks at him questioningly, noticing that he's feeling uncomfortable. Dean doesn't beat around the bush and just gets the words out before he's able to chicken out of it.`

 

`“` `Sammy, you'll go back to Bobby.“`

 

`Sam blinks up at him. “What do you mean?“`

 

`“` `What I just said. I don't know how fast I'll be able to get a job and I don't know what dad is going to do. I can't look after the both of you. I'm sorry. And this way I don't have to worry about leaving you alone with dad.“`

 

`Dean can see that Sam understands why this is necessary, but he's still mad. “I don't want to go back to Bobby without you.“`

 

`“` `It's only for the summer holidays,” Dean says, smiling a bit. “In a few weeks, you'll come back and then I'll have the money that we need.“`

 

`Sam doesn't meet his eyes. “Did you talk with Bobby about this?“ he asks and Dean shakes his head. “Not yet. I'll call him.“`

 

`Sam just nods and goes upstairs into his room. Dean knows he's doing the right thing, but he's still feeling bad because of it. He calls Bobby and of course, Bobby approves of taking Sam for a few weeks.`

`  
“Don't you want to come too, Dean?“ he asks.`

 

`Dean expected this question already. “No, Bobby,” he says quietly. “I have to stay here. I'll get a job and look after dad.“`

 

`After the phone call, he feels even more miserable. The thought` ` _that John would have said no to Bobby as well_ ` ` is nagging at his insides, but he pushes it to the back of his mind for now.`

 

`They don't bother telling John that Sam is going to leave for a while. Dean is sure that John won't be too keen on that, but he'll be the one who has to deal with that. He'll tell John when Sam isn't there anymore, when Sam is out of reach of their father's anger. Dean doesn't care that he's going to take the brunt of it.`

 

Sam seems like he wants to say something about that, but he bites it back. He probably knows that Dean _wants_ to be the one who has to deal with it.

 

Dean helps his little brother to pack up all his stuff and it feels weird, because usually they always pack their stuff together, but this time only one of them is going to leave. Dean distracts himself by putting Sam in a chair in the bathroom and poorly giving him a haircut. Sam doesn't waste any words on it, though, and just thanks him when he's done.

 

They spend the rest of the day watching crap daytime TV, and neither of them mentions that Sam is going to drive to Bobby tomorrow. Bobby paid for the bus ticket they bought online and Dean fully intends on giving him the money for it back as soon as possible, although Bobby said it's no problem.

 

When it's time for them to leave the next day, they go to the bus station. Dean gives Sam a piggy-back ride, struggling a bit under Sam's weight, since he's grown quite a bit yet again. Sam pinches his ear and calls him a wuss, when Dean complains about it. Dean chuckles, but his heart is heavy.

 

They have a few minutes left before the bus comes and Dean puts Sammy's bag and also Sam down. Sam stares down the street, fiddling with the strap of his backpack that's hanging on his shoulder.

 

“Hey,” Dean says, kneeling down in front of Sam. “You're nice to Bobby, okay? I don't want to get a call saying I can have you back earlier,” he jokes, and Sam rolls his eyes. “I'm not a little kid anymore, Dean. You don't have to tell me something like that.“

 

“Yeah, I know,” Dean says. “Take care of yourself. And call me regularly. When something happens, you call me right away.“

 

Sam nods, pressing his lips together. “Okay,” he says and looks past Dean. The bus just drove around the corner. Dean stands again and grabs Sam's bag. The door of the bus opens and Sam enters it, taking the bag Dean is handing him. Suddenly, Sam is hugging him. Dean slings his arms around his little brother automatically.

 

“Take care of yourself too, Dean,” Sam mutters before he lets go of him. Dean smiles and nods. “Always. You know me, Sammy.“

 

“It's Sam,” Sam snorts, but he's smiling back at him. Then, he shows his ticket to the bus driver and looks for a place to sit. He decides for a seat near the window, so he can wave Dean goodbye. The bus drives off and Dean waves back until the bus disappears from his sight.

 

Dean is just standing there for a moment, biting his lip a little too hard, but then he sighs and turns around. He goes home. John is still sleeping when he enters the house; he didn't even notice that they left the house. Dean wants to wait for John to notice that Sam isn't there, and only then he's going to tell him about where Sam is. He nods to himself and goes upstairs into his room. He feels awful. He keeps telling himself that it's the right thing to send Sam to Bobby. At least, Sam will have nice summer holidays and he won't have to deal with John and also doesn't have to worry if they had enough money or food. Dean is going to deal with John and whatever he's going to do, and Dean is going to worry if he has enough money or food. Bobby will take care of Sam. Maybe they'll go fishing or Bobby gets Sam to help him in his garage. And Bobby has tons of books Sam wants to read, the little nerd he is. Dean tries to relax and to smile. Sam will have it good at Bobby's, that's for sure. And that's all that matters to Dean.

 

He doesn't really care about himself. He doesn't care about what John is going to do to him, when he finds out he sent Sam to Bobby, as long as his little brother is safe. That's the reason why he denied himself to go to prom. He wanted to go, he really wanted to talk to Castiel and to kiss him, but then John got fired and he just couldn't leave Sam alone with their father. Sure, nothing has happened, but if something had happened and Dean hadn't been there, he wouldn't have been able to forgive himself for that. He is the big brother and his job is to protect his little brother. No matter how much he has wanted to see Castiel.

 

Hell, he still wants to see him. He still wants to talk to Cas. He still wants to kiss the blue-eyed boy.

 

And he didn't put Sam before Castiel. He put Sam before his own wishes. Just like always.

 

Dean swallows, looking at the ceiling with a scowl on his face. He wonders why his life has to be like _this_. Why he had to lose his mother when he was only six years old. Why his father had to start drinking and beating up his children after he lost his wife. Why he had to develop such intense feelings for someone he can't have.

 

Sometimes he just wonders if maybe his entire existence is simply a complete joke to the universe.

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to think of something to say, but the truth is that I'm just so incredibly sorry. The last weeks weren't easy for me and I had really bad writer's block. This might not be a good enough reason to not update for almost three months, but I don't have a better reason.
> 
> Now, I've finally overcome writer's block and this is a really long chapter, and I hope you'll like it. Thank you for bearing with me and thank you to the people who kept asking if everything's okay and who told me that it's okay to take care of myself first. Thank you for sticking with me & this story.
> 
> ~ KC

Scribbling down the order of an elderly man and nodding and smiling at him, Cas tries not to freak out. He hastily passes it on to Benny before going over to another table. Lunchtime is one of the busiest times at Pamela's diner and it's only Castiel's second shift here – he's not used to this kind of stress. Besides, he's not nearly as fast as Pamela or Benny, due to this only being his second shift, and somehow it's bothering him. But both, Pamela and Benny told him that he's doing well already and that he just needed some time to accustom himself.

 

When lunchtime is over, it gets quieter again and Cas has more room to breathe. It's a good thing that he's feeling so comfortable at Pamela's diner. He knows he wouldn't be able to face this kind of stress, if he weren't feeling this comfortable here.

 

Crowley is his next guest, grinning up at him from his seat. It's so hot outside that the Brit abandoned his pea coat today.

 

“What can I get you?“ Cas asks, grinning back at his friend.

 

“A coffee, black. That's all. How's it going?“

 

Cas just shrugs, looking around. “It's okay,” he mutters.

 

Crowley squints at him, but he doesn't say something about it. “Do you want to come to me after work?“

 

Cas bites his lip. “Is it okay when we go to me?“ he asks. Lucifer wants to have dinner together today and he knows that if they went to Crowley's apartment, they would get drunk or take some drugs and then he'd never ever be home in time.

 

“Sure,” Crowley says, immediately agreeing without asking any questions.

 

“Great. My shift is over in half an hour.“

 

Time goes by relatively fast and then Cas and Crowley farewell Pamela and Benny. Pamela says she's glad to have him and Cas smiles back at her sheepishly, knowing he's not that big of a help yet. Benny is still sulking and in a kinda bad mood, but no one mentions it, though Castiel and Crowley shoot a quick look at each other.

 

They leave the diner and as soon as the door is closed behind them, Crowley starts to giggle. Cas huffs a small laugh, rolling his eyes. “It's not funny.“

 

“Yeah, it's hilarious,” Crowley says defensively. Cas begins to say something, but Crowley cuts him off. “Come on. He isn't _heartbroken_. The problem is just his injured pride.“

 

“I know, but still...,” Cas says, pressing his lips together.

 

“Nah, he's just sulking,” Crowley means. “It'll be over soon, at the latest when he starts his apprenticeship after the summer break.“ Castiel thinks about that for a moment and he cannot do otherwise but to agree with the Brit. Benny's heart is not broken, he's just mad and sulking. It won't last too long. Crowley reads off his face that he knows he's right and Cas shakes his head.

 

“Benny won't talk about it, though. But I don't even know what exactly happened. Do you?“ the Brit says, looking at Cas from the side.

 

“Er, Benny and Madison went to prom together and then there was a fight. I don't know what the fight was about, but Madison left and now she has quit her job at Pamela's diner and apparently, she is about to move back to her mom.“ He screws up his nose, trying to think of something else, but he can't remember anything else about the breakup. Even though, prom was only one week ago, it's already a distant memory.

 

The only thing that's still distinct in his mind is the fact that Dean wasn't there. Before he can start to think about the green-eyed boy, Crowley starts talking again. “I barely remember something from prom,” he chuckles and Cas is just able to huff a breath, blinking at his feet.

 

They walk in silence for a few minutes and Castiel notices that Crowley is eyeing him. He sighs. “What?“

 

“How are you?“ Crowley asks bluntly.

 

“I'm fine,” Cas replies right away, the words rolling off his tongue a little bit too quickly.

 

“Here's a tip. _Don't lie to a liar._ “

 

Cas scoffs, but he doesn't know what to say. He bites his lip. “I have something to do,” he says hesitantly after another moment of silence.

 

“And that's enough?“ Crowley wonders doubtfully.

 

“For now,” Cas decides, putting his hands into the pockets of his jeans, “it has to be enough.“

 

He knows that Crowley isn't pleased with this answer, but the Brit doesn't dwell on it. Instead, he just means that it's nice of Pamela to offer him a job like Missouri did. Cas agrees with that, but he also thinks that Pamela just needed someone, now that Madison isn't there anymore – and after the summer break, Benny is going to stop working at her diner as well.

 

When they arrive at Cas' home, he's a little sweaty, since he's wearing a sweater, although it's hot outside. He's feeling uncomfortable, but he knows he'd be even more uncomfortable when his scars were visible.

 

After a quick hello to Lucifer, they go upstairs into Castiel's bedroom and Crowley flops down on his desk chair, looking out of the window and snatching his ashtray that's been on the window sill. Cas sits down on his bed and tosses Crowley his cigarette pack. They spend the afternoon just talking, drinking beer and soda, listening to music and smoking.

 

Crowley is going to fly to New York in a few days. It's their main topic of conversation.

 

“How excited are you?“ Cas asks.

 

“Very,” Crowley replies simply, shrugging his shoulders. “But my family took already care of finding an apartment for me, so I don't have to worry about that. Everything else is also cleared by now. The only thing I have to do is find a job.“

 

Cas nods. “Sounds good.“ He is able to relate to the wanting to have a job and one's own money. This way Crowley won't depend completely on his family, just like Cas and also Lucifer aren't depending on their father, especially now that they both have jobs.

 

As always, Crowley starts complaining about his music at some point. “Like really, you're always listening to the same band when I'm here. Are you just doing this to annoy me?“ he asks jestingly.

 

“Hey, _Panic! At The Disco_ is amazing,” Cas shoots back, raising one eyebrow at Crowley, who's shaking is head. But Cas is smiling and damn, he knows he's going to miss the Brit.

 

Towards evening, Lucifer calls them downstairs and they make hamburgers together. Lucifer asks about New York as well while they're eating and Crowley answers all of his questions, but Castiel notices that his friend is looking at him a few times, as if he wanted to say something. He's shooting Cas an especially long look when he leaves. It's after midnight and Cas is tired, but that's not the only reason why he ignores the way Crowley is looking at him. He doesn't pry, because he isn't sure if he even wanted to hear what Crowley is almost about to say.

 

When the Brit left the house, Castiel says good night to his brother and disappears into his bedroom, trying to forget how close Crowley was to say whatever it was he wanted to say.

 

Two days later, he has his first shift at Missouri's shop. But he already wakes up in a bad mood somehow, so he showers bad-tempered and makes himself some toast and coffee with a sour face. His brother is still asleep and he remembers that Lucifer has a day off today.

 

Before he leaves the house, he knocks on Lucifer's bedroom door, waking him up and telling him he'll go to Missouri now. Lucifer answers with a muffled, “Have fun.“

 

Cas huffs a breath, shaking his head. “Bye.“

 

Summer is in full swing and it's really hot outside; Castiel hates it so fucking much. He's wearing grey jeans and a simple white t-shirt under a thin red jacket that's only purpose is to hide his scars. He sighs, rubbing his arms and hoping that the air conditioning system in Missouri's shop is working.

 

Missouri is happy to see him, as always. Although today is his first day working here, it's a little different than at Pamela's diner, because he's familiar with most of it. The only new things are the contact with the customers and the dealing with the register, but Cas realizes quickly that that's no big deal for him.

 

Unfortunately, it's not a busy day and Missouri has to call a lot of people, mostly the producers of the articles she's selling and doesn't make herself. That's why Castiel has a lot of time to think and he really doesn't enjoy that.

 

He's trying to avoid thinking about Dean, so he's thinking about his friends. Charlie and Dorothy are still a cute couple, totally in love with each other, and in a few weeks they will go to college together. Kevin has also some time until the new school year starts for him and he wants to spend most of the summer break in his room, either learning for school or playing video games. Gabriel will also go to college, what is kind of a big surprise; no one expected Gabe to go to college immediately, not even he himself. Crowley will leave the day after tomorrow and start his new life in New York. Benny and Gadreel are going to start their apprenticeships next month, and Ash and Garth already hit the road the day after prom. They both wanted some time off before starting their life after high school. Castiel thought about a road trip as well, but he doesn't know why he decided against it. Though, he also doesn't know why he should have decided _for_ going on a road trip.

 

Halfway through his shift, he gets a text from Meg that says they're all going to meet at the bar later to give Crowley a farewell party. A smile tugs at the corners of Cas' mouth for the first time today. He replies he'll be there, trying to look forward to it.

 

But when he's in the aisle where the nail polish is, something is pulling at his insides and he gets reminded of Dean, of the green nail polish that's still in the drawer of his nightstand, and of the green of Dean's eyes that burned so intensely in the bathroom at school when Dean pressed him against the wall.

 

 _Damn it_ , he thinks and sighs heavily, running his fingers through his hair a bit too roughly, swallowing hard and continuing to sweep the floor.

 

Twenty minutes before his shift ends, a customer enters the shop and the man buys so many things that Cas is finally busy and isn't able to think about Dean anymore. He assumes that the man is just passing through town and buys a few gifts for his friends and family. Missouri joins them after a few minutes and helps Castiel with everything. The man leaves the shop with a happy smile on his face, laden with a couple of paper bags, just two minutes before Cas' shift ends.

 

When he says goodbye to Missouri, she asks how he's feeling. Castiel doesn't want to lie to her, so he shrugs his shoulders and a knowing expression slides onto her face. “I've already told you this. I really think you should just talk to Dean.“

 

Cas breaks eye contact and looks at the floor, and Missouri keeps talking. “These feelings that you have for Dean aren't going to disappear all of a sudden. And after what you told me about what has happened in that bathroom at school, it seems very likely that Dean _does_ like you back.“

 

Cas bites his lip, not knowing what to say, so he doesn't say anything at all and just keeps staring at the floor.

 

“Honey, look at me,” Missouri demands gently and Castiel raises his eyes hesitantly.

 

“Communication is important. If you don't talk to Dean, how are you going to find out what he's thinking and what he wants from you? And Dean doesn't seem to hate you like you thought he did.“

 

He shrugs his shoulders halfheartedly. He doesn't know. That's the reason why he told Missouri everything that has happened in the bathroom. He told her about Dean and about Alastair, and that it was so obvious what's going on in Dean's mind. He wanted to kiss him. And hell, _Cas wanted to kiss Dean as well._ He wanted Dean to kiss him and he's mad about Alastair interrupting them, but he's also kind of glad about that. He thought that Dean would hate him, that he doesn't want to have anything to do with him anymore. But he was wrong, and now he doesn't know how to feel about the whole situation.

 

His heart is saying that Missouri is right, but his anxiety is telling him something else.

 

Missouri sighs, sensing his inner turmoil. “You're a good person, Castiel. You are _good enough_. And you are a very good catch. This Dean is more than lucky that a boy like you has feelings for him.“

 

Cas huffs a small laugh, feeling strangely sad, heavy and like he's about to start crying. Missouri sounds so serious and like she actually means what she just said to him. Fuck, he knows she does.

 

“It's not a bad thing that you like him,” she tells him again, but Castiel can't bring himself to believe that. He's just so fucked up. Dean deserves someone better, and it just makes everything even worse that Dean does like him back apparently, because that means that he could have Dean, but he _can't_ have Dean.

 

Missouri pulls him carefully into a hug and Cas wraps his arms around her. “I'm only telling you that you should talk to Dean, because you're going to regret it, if you didn't do it. You could miss out on one of the best things that will ever happen to you. You never know.“

 

Castiel goes home and he doesn't get what Missouri said to him and the look in Dean's eyes in the bathroom out of his head. Lucifer knows that something is wrong and Cas is sorry that his brother is worrying about him once again.

 

He has a snack together with Lucifer before he sets out for the farewell party. Cas is one of the first to arrive and he grins at Meg who's standing behind the counter. It's her third day of work and she's complaining that Balthazar takes too much delight in rushing her all the time – of course, Balthazar denies that with a smirk.

 

Kevin is the next to arrive and he sits down next to Cas. “I can't stay very long,” he tells them. “My mom doesn't want that.“ He's only allowed to be here, because everyone knows he won't drink something, and neither Meg nor Balthazar would ever give him an alcoholic drink, since they know Kevin's mom would be furious. And no one would ever dare to mess with Mrs. Tran.

 

Just as he ends the sentence, Charlie and Dorothy enter the bar, of course walking hand in hand. They spot Cas and Kevin and come over to them, giving them both a hug and sitting down next to them. Gabriel, Gadreel and Benny show up in the next ten minutes and they all sit down at one of the bigger tables. Balthazar already provided them with peanuts while they're waiting for Crowley, who is last to arrive like it was planned – Billie sent her apologies, but she can't come due to some family matter.

 

Crowley isn't keen on this surprise farewell party at first. He loves to be the center of attention, just not like _this_ , not when there are so many emotions involved. But then he sits down as well and buys the first round, because Charlie has an excellent expression on her face that's a mixture between a pout and a glare.

 

They talk and drink; Balthazar and Meg bring them everything and always stay a little longer at their table than at the others. Around 9 pm – the bar is crowded by now – Kevin has to leave and Benny offers to drive him home, since he has an early shift tomorrow anyway. Dorothy leaves shortly after that, because her mom called her and wanted her to come home. She farewells everyone and kisses Charlie on the cheek.

 

The rest of them stays until after midnight, but they mostly just talk and play cards. Cas is able to relax in the company of his friends and he's even able to push Dean out of his head for a while. But he notices again that Crowley is looking at him weirdly and again, the Brit doesn't say what he wants to say. Castiel tells himself that his friend would talk to him, if it were really important, especially because he's going to leave town soon. But he knows that's just an excuse to stop wondering about what it is that Crowley doesn't tell him.

 

Cas has the hope – but also the fear – that Crowley is going to talk to him before he leaves for New York. But two days later, they're on the way to the airport, together with Charlie, Gadreel and Benny, and Crowley still hasn't talked to him. He wonders if Crowley didn't have the guts to tell him whatever it is that's on his mind, but then again, it's _Crowley_ – he always says what he wants to say. Why not now? What's holding him back?

 

But he doesn't tell Castiel, although it seems like it for a few seconds when they farewell each other. Cas looks at him questioningly and Crowley just puts on an amused smirk. “See you around!“

 

On the way home Cas is wondering if it were best when Crowley would just talk to him. But he can't decide, since he doesn't know what it is that the Brit isn't telling him. Charlie interrupts his thoughts after a while, looking at him in the rear-view mirror. He's sitting in the backseat with Benny, since Gadreel called shotgun.

 

“What do you think? Shall we go to pride next weekend?“ she asks excitedly.

 

Cas grins back at her. “Sounds good. You're in too?“ He looks from Benny to Gadreel and they return his smile and nod. Charlie urges him to call Dorothy and the others to tell them immediately. He rolls his eyes, but gets his phone out of his pocket, calling Dorothy, Meg, Gabriel and Balthazar and invites them to go to pride with them together next week. All their friends agree on it and Castiel feels lighter, knowing he's definitely looking forward to it.

 

He's feeling good, even though he just said goodbye to one of his best friends. But he and Crowley are going to remain friends, no matter what – that's for sure. They'll just live in different places now. Stuff like this happens when you get older and finish school. It's not the end of the world. It's not nice either, but it's one of the things that are inconvenient but you are okay with it somehow.

 

However, Castiel's good mood only lasts until Charlie drives into his street and Benny asks if that isn't his dad's car in their driveway. Cas turns his head and looks out of the window, and as Charlie parks next to his father's car, his heart is already starting to sink.

 

Charlie screws up her nose, looking at the car as well, and then Lucifer opens the front door and walks over to them, a resigned but angry expression on his face. Cas gets out of the car, staring at his big brother.

 

“Hey, guys.“

 

The others wave at Lucifer, but Castiel doesn't bother with an hello. “What is he doing here?“ he asks. Lucifer shakes his head, biting his lip. “I don't know. But he'll stay for the rest of the month.“

 

“What?“ Castiel looks at Lucifer with wide eyes. No. _No no no._ For the rest of the month? That's almost _three_ weeks. He doesn't remember the last time Bartholomew has stayed this long. He can't even remember if he had ever stayed this long since they moved here four years ago.

 

He swallows. He knows he has to go in there now and face his father. With a sigh he farewells the others, who are looking at him sympathetically. Together with Lucifer he enters the house, wishing he were still in the car with his friends. Cas looks at the staircase longingly, but then Bartholomew is already calling his name. He sighs again, shaking his head and closing his eyes for a moment before he enters the living room.

 

His father is sitting on the couch, bent forward, and not looking up from the newspaper he's reading, when Cas steps into the room. “Hello, Castiel. Where were you?“ he says, changing pages.

 

“Charlie, Benny, Gadreel and I drove Crowley to the airport,” Cas answers honestly.

 

“Who?“ Bartholomew asks uninterested, still not looking at Cas, who rolls his eyes.

 

“I just did something with some of my friends,” Cas says. “Why are you here?“

 

Finally, his father looks up and at him – probably just because of his aggressive tone of voice, Cas thinks. “We already had this discussion the last time I was here and we won't have it again. This is my house and I can come whenever I want. _Period._ “ Bartholomew's tone of voice isn't any less aggressive than Castiel's has been.

 

Cas sighs internally, but he just shrugs his shoulders. “Fine,” he mutters, turning around.

 

“Castiel. Stay and have a seat.“

 

He locks eyes with his brother, who's leaning against the door frame and raising his eyebrows at their father's words. Cas is also surprised and confused. He rubs his face, turning half around to Bartholomew again. “Why?“

 

Barth looks coldly at him. “Because I want to talk with you.“

 

“Since when?“ Cas wonders bluntly, the consequence being that his father slams the newspaper on the coffee table. “Sit down. I won't say it again.“

 

“I'd rather stand,” Castiel says, crossing his arms in front of his chest and returning the cold look Bartholomew is giving him.

 

His dad greets his teeth. “This is not how it's going to be for the rest of the month,” he says sternly, looking at the both of them now. “I am going to stay for a while, whether you like it or not. And we are going to spend time together.“

 

“Yeah, well, we'll have to spend time with each other at another time,” Cas says, looking at his watch. “I have to go.“

 

“Where to?“ Bartholomew asks angrily.

 

“Work,” Cas answers defensively. “I have a job now. Two jobs, actually.“

 

Bartholomew's eyebrows shoot towards the ceiling in surprise. Cas just looks back at him. “At least on that score, I'm not a disappointment.“

 

Then, he leaves without another word to their father, who doesn't say something else as well. Lucifer follows him into the hallway. “I'm sorry,” he says quietly, looking at him with worry in his eyes. Cas shrugs his shoulders. “It's not your fault.“

 

He walks to Missouri's shop, arriving a bit too early, but that's okay. While he's cleaning different shelves and rearranging all the items on them, he talks to Missouri – about his father, about Dean and also about Crowley. As ever, Missouri just listens to him without interrupting him until he doesn't know what to say anymore. Cas is feeling better when he has gotten everything off his chest for now. Missouri might not know exactly how to help him with everything, but that he just has someone who listens to all he's saying feels already extremely helpful. Though, he still doesn't know what to do about Dean, although Missouri advises him again to talk to him. He just nods halfheartedly.

 

“What about my dad?“

 

“Oh honey, I know it's a difficult situation. But you have to try not to lose your peace of mind, even though he's there.“

 

Cas rubs his neck. He knows she's right, but it's easier to think about this right now when he's not near his father. He isn't sure if he's able to manage to stay calm, when Bartholomew says something provocative to him. But he knows he has to try it, at least. He keeps telling himself that it's only for about three weeks. That's not _forever_ , even though it's certainly going to feel like it.

 

He also tells Missouri about the way Crowley looked at him and how close he was to say something to him. She looks at him questioningly. “Maybe he wanted to ask you a question. Did you think about this possibility, too?“

 

Cas wrinkles his brow. “Yeah, I mean... no, not really, to be honest,” he mutters, biting the inside of his cheek.

 

“He will tell or ask you eventually, whatever it is that's on his mind,” Missouri assures him and Cas nods hesitantly. “Sometimes, people need some time to think things through. The weight of words can be really heavy. Maybe he isn't sure if he should actually say them out loud.“

 

Cas looks at Missouri for a long moment before he hugs her. She seems surprised, but hugs him back. “Thank you,” he says quietly.

 

Later, when Missouri and he just closed the shop, Crowley calls him. Cas farewells Missouri by waving at her, and presses his phone to his ear, starting to walk home. The phone call doesn't last very long, though. Crowley just called to tell him that he has arrived safely and that everything's fine.

 

When Castiel enters the house, Lucifer is in the kitchen, throwing together some pancakes. Cas decides to help his brother to avoid Bartholomew, who's still sitting in the living room, only now with his laptop in front of him. But they have dinner together and talk, and it's just extremely _awkward_. He hates it and he knows that Lucifer hates it as well.

 

Their father is trying to have a normal conversation, but it's far too obvious that he's not actually interested in what they are saying. Cas doesn't want to talk to him, and he doesn't even know what they're supposed to talk about. They're only making small talk and that's already terrible.

 

Over the next few days Castiel's mood worsens more and more, mostly because of his father. Charlie and Dorothy visit him and it's supposed to be a fun afternoon, just watching a few movies and talking about everything and anything. But Bartholomew is there and he makes no secret of what he's thinking about Charlie's and Dorothy's relationship. He's visibly grossed out and it jars on Cas' nerves and of course, he isn't able to keep his mouth shut. He completely forgets about what Missouri told him – that he should try not to lose his peace of mind, just because his father is there.

 

“What is your problem?“ he asks Bartholomew, who said something under his breath after Dorothy pressed a kiss to the corner of Charlie's mouth.

 

“What do you mean?“ Bartholomew asks back, knowing exactly what Castiel is talking about. Cas snorts, shaking his head. Charlie pulls at his sleeve, urging him to sit back down again. “It's fine, Cas. We don't care.“

 

“But I do,” he says, looking at her and at Dorothy, who's shaking her head slightly as if to tell him _just leave it be_.

 

“Looks more like you're the one who has a problem,” Bartholomew says dismissively.

 

Cas tilts his head a bit, squinting at his father. “Oh yeah, you're right. Your homophobia is indeed a problem for me. _I wonder why._ “ He huffs a small, humorless laugh. “Good thing you're not going to pride with us.“

 

With a scoff, he lets himself fall back onto the couch, crossing his legs and looking at the TV screen. He didn't pay any attention in the last minutes, and he doesn't know anymore what the movie they're watching is about. Dorothy gives him a weak, apologetic smile.

 

“You're going to pride? When?“ Bartholomew asks slowly.

 

“Next week,” Castiel answers brusquely, not looking at his father.

 

“No.“

 

Now, Cas does look at his father. “What do you mean – _no_?“

 

“You won't go to pride. That's what I mean. I'm not allowing it.“

 

“I'm not asking you if I can go,” Cas says, a little bit confused about where this conversation is going all of a sudden.

 

“I don't care. You won't go to pride as long as I'm here – as long as you live under my roof.“ Bartholomew takes his cup and gets ready to leave the living room. Castiel can just stare at his father for a few moments, not knowing what to say. Seeking help, he looks at Charlie and Dorothy, but the two look just as speechless as he feels. Bartholomew's words only slowly start making sense to him. He can't believe this. But he knows that this is the straw to break the camel's back.

 

Since this is kind of a family affair and not Charlie's and Dorothy's problem, Cas asks them to leave.

 

“What? No,” Charlie says hurriedly, looking pleadingly at him.

 

“We'll stay.“ Dorothy nods, shooting Bartholomew an angry look.

 

“Guys, I appreciate it, I really do, and I love you both, but please, go. I can handle this.“ He ignores his father, who scoffs behind him, and Cas is pretty sure that he also rolled his eyes. Charlie crosses her arms in front of her chest, her eyes full with doubts.

 

“Please, go. I'll call you later,” he promises quietly. Dorothy is biting her lip and when Charlie looks at her, she just shrugs her shoulders. Charlie sighs resignedly. “You'll better call, alright?“

 

Castiel gives her a small smile and nods. The girls grab their coats and give him each a big hug before they leave the house. He swallows as he watches Charlie's car turn right at the end of the street. Lucifer comes downstairs. “Did Charlie and Dorothy already leave?“

 

“Yeah.“ Cas sighs. Why does nothing ever go as planned? With an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach, he goes back into the living room, where Bartholomew is still standing. His brother follows him, looking from their father to Castiel and back, wondering what's going on. Castiel is wondering as well what exactly is happening, and why it has to happen right now.

 

Bartholomew is staring at him, angrily and dismissively. There's hate in his eyes when he's looking at his youngest son. Seeking help, Cas looks at Lucifer, who still doesn't know what's going on. Confused, he returns Castiel's look.

 

“Dad doesn't want me to go to pride next weekend,” Cas explains quietly, and Lucifer rolls his eyes, staring at their father.

 

“What?“ Bartholomew asks, throwing his arms up in the air.

 

The next twenty minutes go by in the blink of an eye. There's a lot of shouting, mostly from Bartholomew and Castiel, and a few _very_ ugly words are said. Lucifer interposes himself between Cas and their father, trying to calm the waves but none of the things he says are of any use. Bartholomew doesn't listen to neither of them. It's a complete disaster.

 

Later, Cas is lying in his bed, his phone on his chest – put on speaker – and he's talking to Charlie. She called him, because he didn't get back to her like he said he would. He was so upset and afraid he'd take it out on her. Now, he's feeling weirdly drained and his voice sounds almost apathetically when he tells Charlie that he's grounded.

 

“You're 18, Cas!“ she says furiously.

 

“Yeah, tell that my father,” Cas sighs. He rubs his eyes, feeling so strangely tired. He didn't do anything really today. He didn't have to work and he just watched some TV with Charlie and Dorothy. But of course, he knows why he's so fucking tired – because of the fight with Bartholomew.

 

“You okay?“ Charlie asks quietly. Cas bites his lip. “No, not really,” he answers, huffing a small breath. “Hey, you and the others, you can go to pride next week, okay?“ he says. “I don't feel so good anyway and I'd probably just ruin it either way. And now that I'm grounded, I'm not allowed to go, so...“

 

“Oh no, Cas. I already talked to the others. No one wants to go to pride without you,” Charlie tells him and he feels guilty immediately. _Awesome._ Charlie notices his bad mood because of this and tries to cheer him up, but it doesn't work. And Castiel doesn't want her to be sad because of him, so he ends the phone call after a while.

 

He doesn't think he'd be able to sleep properly, but he falls asleep surprisingly quickly. Cas doesn't even notice that Lucifer checks in on him, relieved that his little brother is able to sleep after all, but scared of the next morning, when Cas will look at the calendar and see what day it is and what day will be in a month from today.

 

Lucifer was scared of this with good reason.

 

When Castiel comes into the kitchen that morning, he's still in a bad mood and it doesn't get better. Absentmindedly, he has a look at the calendar and stops dead.

 

It's June 17th. That's all he needed! A month from today is the _anniversary_.

 

He gulps, but all of a sudden there's a lump in his throat. Lucifer is staring at him worriedly, already opening his mouth to say something, since he knows what's going on, but then their father enters the kitchen as well. And Bartholomew doesn't know what's going on. He doesn't even notice that Cas is terribly pale and looks devastated. Of course, Lucifer _does_ notice it, but Castiel doesn't meet his eyes. He doesn't want to see the worry in his brother's face, so he just turns around and leaves the room.

 

This night, Cas' nightmares come back at full tilt and they're dealing with only one subject – _what happened to him five years ago._

 

The days go by and Castiel's inner turmoil starts to become visible on the outside. He barely sleeps and he also doesn't eat as much as he should, and he tries to compensate for that with a lot of alcohol and cigarettes. The result is that he's feeling even worse, and it's just going more and more south. He's feeling especially bad, because he isn't able to do anything about it. It all just happens and he isn't able to stop it. It's like he's watching the whole situation from someone else's point of view, fascinated and disgusted at the same time. His father is completely oblivious to the whole situation, or maybe he's just ignoring it, since that's the easiest thing to do for him. Castiel isn't in the position to ignore it. And Lucifer and his friends, they also don't ignore it, even though they could – but they don't want to because they care about him, so they're trying to cheer him up.

 

Lucifer is the only one, besides their father, who knows exactly what is wrong with Cas at the moment. His friends don't know, but they aren't asking any questions. As sad as it is – it's _usual_ for him to behave like this around this time of the year. At the latest when it's around the end of June, Castiel's mood changes drastically. He has a hunch that Lucifer told them not to ask any questions, but he himself asked his friends not to do it. Of course, his friends have obliged every year, and they're doing it again this year.

 

Castiel works as much as possible. On the one hand, he's trying to avoid Bartholomew – he's still mad at his father because he wasn't allowed to go to pride and he's also still grounded. On the other hand, he's secretly hoping that if he's so exhausted, at some point he just has to sleep properly and without dreaming. At least, just one night once in a while. But it doesn't work. Apparently, for now it is enough for his body to function with only the bare necessities. Lucifer and the others force him to drink water and to eat something every now and then. Pamela and Missouri are glad about all the help they're getting from him, though they're eyeing him worriedly as well.

 

To tell the truth, Cas _isn't_ worried about himself. He hardly cares about himself. But he does care about his friends and his big brother, and he doesn't want them to worry about him. Of course, he knows that he can't make them stop worrying, but he doesn't like that they do it. He thinks he doesn't deserve it and he's feeling bad, because the others are feeling bad _because of him_. It all just sucks and he hates it so fucking much.

 

During some nights he can't sleep at all, no matter how tired he is – and by now, he's super fucking tired all the fucking time –, and he just listens to music, or watches a movie or a few episodes of a TV show on his laptop, or he reads. And sometimes he just lies there in his bed, thinking and drowning in self-loathing.

 

He's still thinking about Dean – a lot. He misses the green-eyed boy and he hates that as well. Thinking about Dean hurts, since he still wants him but he can't have him. And he isn't able to stop thinking about Dean.

 

One night Dean creeps in Castiel's nightmare and when Cas wakes up, he has to run to the bathroom and throw up. He was back in the little apartment over the liquor store, lying on the floor. Dean was there, looking down on him. Cas still has the smell of booze in his nose when he's puking his guts out, hanging weakly over the toilet bowl. But that isn't the reason why he's feeling so miserable. It's the look on Dean's face. He tries to tell himself that it was just a nightmare and that it wasn't real, but he can't get the disgusted look on Dean's face out of his head. Dean's beautiful eyes were full of hatred and Cas couldn't stand it.

 

He woke Lucifer up who comes running into the bathroom as well, worry dispelling the tiredness in his eyes. Carefully, he reaches out for Cas, knowing that his little brother doesn't like to be touched when the memories are drowning him. Lucifer places a hand on Castiel's shoulder, who swallows repulsively. There wasn't much in his stomach that was worth throwing up, and now his throat is burning. Cas flinches slightly at his brother's touch, but then he allows it and lets Lucifer comfort him and bring him back to bed. Lucifer stays with him until he falls back asleep.

 

It's a restless sleep Cas falls into and he wakes up even more tired. He blinks his eyes open and sees Meg sitting on the edge of his bed. “Hey,” she says, scooting over and eyeing him. He wonders for how long she's already here and waiting for him to wake up. He won't complain, though. Cas is glad that Meg is here. He's glad to see her, like always.

 

Meg sticks with him for the whole day. They spend some time in his room, but they also go outside for a while, sitting on the stairs of the front porch. It kind of reminds Cas of how he sat with Dean on the night of the party at Anna's house, but he banishes this thought out of his head with Meg's help. She's a great distraction. They smoke, talk and listen to music. Meg never complains about his music. She also makes him eat something, even though he doesn't want to, since he doesn't want to throw up again. But he eats a little bit and keeps everything inside. Both, Lucifer and Meg are relieved that he's accepting their help.

 

Shortly before lunchtime, Cas and Meg leave the house and go to Balthazar. Meg is free today, but Balthazar has to work for a few hours. They arrive at the bar just when Balthazar's shift is over. Cas and Meg are holding hands, both of them knowing exactly what it means. They're just friends and Cas is gay, but it's comforting to hold Meg's hand. A lot of people already thought that they're a couple, because sometimes it might actually look like it. But as long as Cas and Meg know where they stand, that's enough for them. And yes, sometimes it may seem like they're flirting with each other, but it's actually just teasing. Meg only had to take one look at Cas when they've met for the first time and then she knew that he's gay.

 

Balthazar knows that something's wrong, he also knows what time of the year it is, but he's still glad to see Castiel. They go home with him; Balthazar has a modern, but comfortable apartment downtown. It's only a few minutes to walk from there to the bar, and he doesn't even own a car. Castiel isn't sure if Balthazar even has a driver license. But he can cook – well, not as good as Missouri or Benny's mom or Pamela, but still – and he fixes them some chicken fricassee. They talk about movies and TV shows, and that Meg is getting better and better working at the bar (at the beginning she smashed some glasses accidentally and Balthazar is still making fun of that). In the afternoon Castiel has to work at Missouri's shop for three hours, so he and Meg leave Balthazar's apartment so as to arrive at the shop just in time.

 

Missouri brings them ice cream and they talk, and while Cas is cleaning some of the shelves, Meg makes some flower crowns. Castiel knows that they're watching him and tries to put on a neutral expression, but apparently it's still obvious how miserable he's feeling, and he hates it.

 

The next days there's always someone to distract him – Lucifer, Meg, Benny, Balthazar, Charlie, Dorothy, Kevin, Missouri, Pamela, Billie, Gabriel, Gadreel. Castiel knows that he has an amazing big brother and also amazing friends, but he still feels so low and he slowly but surely loses interest in basically everything. The phantom pains in his scars flare up again and again, and he can't do anything about it. And he still isn't able to fucking sleep.

 

Time is flying. Suddenly, June is sliding into July and the _anniversary_ is nearing more and more. Cas is scared and gets drunk more often again. He has a vast number of fights with Bartholomew, mostly about trivialities and all the fights are actually pretty unnecessary. But it feels good to yell and to let his anger out a bit, so Castiel is out for fights. And it doesn't take much to make his father angry. Lucifer tries to break up all the fights and to stop Cas from provoking them in the first place, but to no avail. He doesn't get through to Castiel anymore, and he isn't the only one. The others are having more and more problems distracting Cas and cheering him up, since he's going numb again. It scares all of them, but mostly it scares Cas himself.

 

Bartholomew leaves on July 5th and Castiel thinks he should be relieved, but he doesn't really feel anything. It scares him a lot, but nothing is scaring him as much as his nightmares and the thoughts in his head.

 

It was five years ago. Five _fucking_ years. Why can't he just get over it? He just wants to get over it. He doesn't want to feel like this anymore. He doesn't want to go numb again. He doesn't want to lose himself again. He doesn't want to push away the people that are most important to him. He doesn't want to be so fucking tired.

 

But he can't change it.

 

After Bartholomew left Charlie, Dorothy and Gadreel visit him at home. They're sitting in the kitchen, four glasses of lemonade are on the table, and Cas doesn't say a lot. He notices that the others are desperately trying to find a topic he shows interest in, but he isn't interested in anything. And he is so sorry and also so _ashamed_.

 

“Hey, what about a new tattoo? I want one now. Maybe we can go to the tattoo parlor together,” Charlie says enthusiastically. Cas looks at her, but only for a few seconds before he looks away again. “I don't have the money for a new tattoo,” he says quietly.

 

“Not yet. But you will have it soon, when you've worked for a while,” Gadreel says, shrugging his shoulders. “I want a tattoo as well. We can all go together.”

 

“I don't want a tattoo,” Dorothy says, raising her hand, but then she shrugs. “But I would go with you.”

 

“Yeah, maybe,” Castiel mutters, knowing that it sounds like a _no_.

 

The others aren't disappointed. They're _worried_. They are far too worried to be disappointed; Cas hates this so fucking much, because he knows _it's his fault_. He's so incredibly sorry and he hopes the others do know that.

 

He talks with Crowley over the phone a few times and also one week before the _anniversary_.

 

Crowley loves New York, he thinks it's the greatest city on earth, and they talk a bit about it. He already found a job as a waiter and he met a few people. College starts soon for him and he's looking forward to it. Cas envies the Brit just a little bit.

 

He assumes that Crowley has talked to the others and when he asks him how he's doing, Cas doesn't feel like lying anyway. “I feel like shit.”

 

“I've heard you don't get a lot of sleep.” So, Crowley _has_ talked to the others.

 

“Nightmares,” Cas sighs. 

 

“About what?” the Brit asks.

 

Cas doesn't know what to answer, so he remains silent until Crowley sighs. “Fine, you don't have to tell me. But the others told me that they aren't able to distract you anymore from what's going on in your head, and it scares them.” 

 

Castiel is glad that Crowley is honest with him, but his guilty conscience is stirring in the back of his mind once again. 

 

“And?” he asks in a low voice, angry at himself. His friends shouldn't have to worry this much about him.

 

“What about a new distraction?”

 

“What do you mean?” Cas wonders, wrinkling his forehead. There's a small pause before Crowley asks the next question. “You've ever talked to that Winchester guy again?”

 

Cas tenses up at the mention of Dean. He grits his teeth. What does Crowley want? 

 

“Why?” he asks, not caring that his anger is audible now. Crowley doesn't answer him at first. There are a few moments of silence and it's unnerving. “What, Crowley?” Cas stresses.

 

“Do you remember Anna's party in February?” the Brit asks suddenly. 

 

“Yeah...,” Cas replies hesitantly, wondering where this conversation is going now.

 

“And that I left you and Dean alone?” 

 

Cas swallows, not knowing what to say, but Crowley doesn't wait for him to answer that question and just continues talking. “And that I never said something against him?”

 

“What's your point?” Castiel asks, angry and confused. Crowley sighs again and hesitates noticeably before he answers the question. “The only reason why was because I could see that Dean does you good.”

 

Cas has absolutely no idea what to say to that and now there's silence for a few minutes, and he just presses his phone against his ear. He hears Crowley breathing and knows that the Brit didn't hang up already. After a while, Crowley changes the topic and they talk about New York again, but shortly after that, they end the phone call. 

 

So – now Crowley has finally said what he wanted to say the whole time. And Castiel doesn't get his words out of his head. 

 

_...because I could see that Dean does you good._

 

He feels miserable. He wants Dean. He needs Dean. He can't have Dean. He misses Dean. He just wants to see him and to hear his voice again. And he wishes he wasn't this fucked up person.

 

Castiel's nightmares intensify in the nights before the  _anniversary_ and he always wakes up screaming and tossing in his bed, and Lucifer always comes running into his room, already knowing this procedure from all the years this is going on by now. Cas is so sorry, since his brother doesn't get a lot of sleep either because of him. Lucifer always stays with him for the rest of the night, soothing him and talking to him quietly, even though Cas always slaps his hands away in the first moments after waking up.

 

The day before the  _anniversary_ Castiel is sitting on his bed, fresh cuts on his arms that are burning satisfyingly, and he's holding the green nail polish in his hand, simply staring at it for a long time. He feels so frighteningly numb. 

 

Without thinking about it, he throws the nail polish away eventually, not even looking at it. He doesn't feel anything.

 

Lucifer forces him to eat a little bit in the evening, but after the next nightmare Cas has to throw up again. Though, this time he didn't scream and he also didn't wake his brother. He only slept for about an hour; it's not even midnight when he falls back into bed, but he can't go back to sleep and just stares at his alarm clock with glassy eyes until the  _anniversary_ is there.

 

Cas swallows convulsively. He knows that today is going to be more than awful. It's going to be even more worse than all the bad days in the last weeks combined. Today is going to be the ultimate bad day. He buries his face in his hands for while and then he scrambles for his cigarette pack, but smoking doesn't help. And looking at the tattoo on his hand doesn't help either. At some point he pulls his headphones out from under a pillow and turns the music really loud. It's actually hurting, but god, he doesn't want to think and he doesn't want to drown in memories again.

 

…

_I'm a fly that's trapped_

_In a web_

_But I'm thinking that_

_My spider's dead_

_Lonely, lonely little life_

_I could kid myself_

_In thinking that I'm fine_

…

 

_That I'm skin and bone_

_Just a king and rusty throne_

_Oh, the castle's under siege_

_But the sign outside says 'leave me alone'_

_..._

 

He wants Dean. Or at least, just to hear his voice, to see him and to look into these beautiful green eyes. 

 

When he goes downstairs, Lucifer is already up and making coffee. Neither of them mentions what day it is, but it's floating heavily in the air between them and Cas sees the dark worries in his brother's eyes. They both don't know how the day is going to be – what Castiel is going to do.

 

Cas has a day off today, since he didn't want to work. He just knows that he wouldn't be able to concentrate and he doesn't want to make a mess in Pamela's diner or Missouri's shop. The chaos in his head is already bad enough and too much to deal with.

 

Actually, Lucifer has a day off as well, but a colleague is sick and he has to cover for them. After he left, Castiel doesn't know what to do. He wishes Crowley were here, so he could get at some drugs to numb his mind, at least. Crowley was smart enough not to give him something before he left for New York, since he knew what time was coming up soon. And now, cigarettes and alcohol aren't enough, but Cas still wants to try. 

 

But Lucifer again was smart enough not to leave any alcohol in the house. Fucking hell. He knows that Cas would despise it to leave the house today. But he really  _needs_ something. It's weird, but today he doesn't go numb of all things. 

 

He wishes he were numb, though.

 

Castiel grabs his wallet and even though he really,  _really_ doesn't want to, he sets out for the supermarket. He ignores basically everyone and everything around him and buys almost absentmindedly alcohol – whiskey. 

 

But when he steps outside and blinks in the harsh light of the sun, a man bumps into him. He's probably homeless and he smells like he's drank an entire liquor store. The smell triggers Cas; he's staring at the man with wide eyes, breathing heavily. The homeless person only blinks once at him before entering the supermarket, probably already forgetting about him.

 

Cas has to run away a few meters, clutching the bottles he just bought to his chest, and then he's throwing up behind a bush. He feels wretched. Memories are flashing through his mind like white lightnings. 

 

He has to throw up again – until his stomach is more than empty and seizing, and his esophagus is burning. With shaking hands, he wipes his mouth. For a moment he closes his eyes, feeling strangely defeated. Still shuddering, he opens his eyes again and looks around. Nobody is there, nobody saw him, and before someone shows up Cas disappears into the forest that's surrounding this whole goddamned town. He only has to go a few meters into it, then he's already out of sight. He sits down and leans against the trunk of a tree.

 

Castiel drinks until he's dizzy, until the pictures in his head start to fade and the voices in his head start to get quieter. At some point he gets up again and by now he's so drunk, he is barely able to stand. He has to hold fast onto the tree trunk, feeling the rough bark under his hands, and the newer cuts on his arms are giving pain. But Cas is just staring at the green treetops above him.

 

_Green._

 

He wants green. He needs green. And that means only one thing – Dean. 

 

His feet start to move without him having to command it. Although he's really drunk, Cas somehow remembers the way to the street where Dean is living and he thinks he also remembers what house Sam has entered, when he'd accompanied them. He doesn't meet anyone on the street. It's late in the morning and apparently all the people are at home or at work. Castiel doesn't pay this too much attention. He's more focused on not stumbling over his own two feet.

 

He doesn't even know what he's going to say to Dean and he doesn't even care how Dean is going to react. Castiel just wants to look into those green eyes again. He wants to go back to that clearing and forget about all the pain for a few seconds, at least. For a moment a delicate thought scares him –  _what if Dean isn't even at home?_ But he tells himself that he'll just wait for him then.

 

Cas is swaying and he almost  _does_ fall over his own feet, but somehow he's able to regain his balance. The bitter taste of the alcohol still lingers on his tongue and he swallows, but the taste doesn't go away. He turns the corner and is in the street where the Winchesters are living. Castiel keeps walking, past a few houses, and then he makes a couple more steps, but suddenly the world is spinning too fast. His mind is in a haze, he squints at the houses around him and then he looks down the street again, just as a black car drives around the corner and parks in front of one of the houses.

 

Swallowing again, he stares at it, but he can't think straight anymore and he has the feeling that the driver of the black car is staring back at him – even though Cas isn't really looking at him, but rather at his car. 

 

Then, his vision goes dark and he faints.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Dean is walking through the town, once again in a bad mood. When is he ever  _not_ in a bad mood lately? It's summer and hot, and even though he prefers summer over winter the heat is ticking him off. He's wearing a black t-shirt and his usual jeans – he doesn't do shorts.

 

The graduation ceremony is only two and a half weeks ago, but it feels like it was ages ago. 

 

He's walking down the main street and when he has to stop at a red light, he lights up a cigarette. He just got a new pack and he also didn't want to go home just yet. So he's walking through the town and by now, the streets are partly familiar. He sees his face in a shop window and the gash that's still healing. The light turns green and Dean keeps walking.

 

The cut starts above his left eyebrow and extends a bit along his eye down his temple. It's still nasty, even though it's already a week old. The guy at the gas station, where he's gotten his new cigarettes, was weirded out by him and the wound in his face. Dean simply ignored it, since he's used to it. He crosses a street and tries not to think about it too much. 

 

John has noticed far too quickly that Sam isn't there. And when Dean told him that Sam is going to spend the summer holidays at Bobby's, his dad wasn't too keen on that and started to throw stuff around and to yell at Dean. One of their kitchen chairs is broken and half of their tableware got smashed to smithers by John. It also didn't help that John was half-drunk, but it was better still than if John had been completely drunk. Though, his dad still threw one of the shards at him and hit his face.

 

That Dean has sent Sam to Bobby doesn't make the situation easier in any case, but living together with John has become even more difficult in general. 

 

He arrives at their house and is glad John isn't there. Dean hates being alone with his father, but he knows that he has made the right decision. It's a good thing that Sam is out of reach of John, at least for a while. 

 

He briefly wonders where John is right now, but then he just shrugs. His dad is probably at a bar, although he shouldn't have any money for that. But it's not Dean's problem at the moment, so he makes himself mashed potatoes with ketchup, watches some TV and smokes a few more cigarettes. Around 2 am John comes home and Dean disappears into his room. He still doesn't know what's wrong with his father, but he also doesn't know what he could do, so he leaves him alone – though that may not be the right thing to do.

 

But during the rare occasions when they meet somewhere in the house – most of the time, it's the kitchen –, John is even more aggressive and physically abusive towards Dean than usual. For the moment Dean is blaming the bottled-up energy John certainly has to have, since he doesn't work anymore. If nothing's going to change, then he would have to deal with it at some point, whether he likes it or not. But not tonight, Dean thinks as he lies down and listens to how his father crashes into the wall a few times on the way to his bedroom.

 

Dean still has trouble falling asleep, even though school is over now and he doesn't have to feel bad, because he didn't learn and / or didn't do his homework. And he also doesn't have to worry about Sam at the moment. But a certain blue-eyed boy is still on his mind.

 

_Ah, fuck that._ He just wants to sleep; he has to work tomorrow. It will be his third shift at one of the garages in town.

 

It didn't take a lot of time to find a job. Sure, the bar, the gas station and the other garage didn't want him, but the owner of the second garage offered him a job, although he eyed Dean's bruised face for quite a long moment. Dean wants to prove everyone (and also kind of himself) wrong. He wants to prove that he isn't a complete failure. Fine, he won't go to college, but he knows a lot about cars and hell, he  _wants_ to work, to do something. And that has to be worth something, right? At least, Dean thinks that way and apparently, his new boss is thinking the same.

 

Bobby and Sam were happy for him – he has called them right away after he got the job. He kept it a secret from them that John threw a fit because Sam isn't there anymore. Of course, they asked if John has already noticed that, but Dean just told them that John is in one of those moods again when he doesn't really care about anything. He isn't sure if they actually believed him, but what of it?

 

Since Sam is only a little over a week at Bobby's by now, there's not a lot they could talk about over the phone. Apparently, Sam is spending a lot of time reading and drawing. So far, Bobby hadn't gotten him into his garage to help him. Dean smiled at that. His little brother isn't really interested in cars.

 

He misses Sam, but he reminds himself that he did the right thing.

 

Sam also asked about Dean's crush again, and Dean only told him that he can't think about that right now – which is true. He has enough on his plate for now. Though, he still misses and he still wants Castiel. And it still pisses him off that he wasn't able to talk to Cas during prom, because he didn't even go. Such a lost opportunity.

 

The work does distract him and he's earning good money. He tries to spend as little as possible on food, beer and cigarettes. Since John doesn't talk to him anymore, he didn't have the chance yet to tell him that he has a job now.

 

Dean talks a few more times with Bobby and Sam over the phone, but other than that – besides the talking to his boss or his colleagues – he's spending his time alone. Every now and then, he gets a little drunk, and he's just glad that the work is fun and that it satisfies him.

 

He still spends a lot of time thinking about Cas. Maybe he should get a second job –  _more money and less time to think._

 

The days pass and there are a few more encounters with John, but Dean never needs stitches and that's really something. And nobody at work says a word when he shows up with a black eye – by now, they know who his father is and they probably have their own thoughts on the matter.

 

Things do get a little awkward and tense, when one of his colleagues tells him he had a fight with his dad last night. Dean blinks at him and doesn't know what to response to his story. John was drunk – what's no surprise, though – and drove in the car of Dean's colleague in the parking lot of a bar. Dean's colleague is really pissed, what's understandable, and Dean apologizes on behalf of John. He is angry as well and he tries to talk to his dad, but John doesn't listen to him, not even a bit. Fortunately, it's just a minor car body damage. And on this day Dean decides to take away the keys of the Impala from John. He's lucky – John assumes that he has lost the keys somewhere and just curses loudly before passing out on the couch. Dean doesn't correct him. Besides, it feels good to drive his baby again. 

 

He's still dreaming of the ocean and of kissing Castiel, and he's still jerking off to thoughts of the blue-eyed boy every other night. 

 

But Dean doesn't know how he's feeling. Sometimes he's so numb and he can't shake the numbness off, so he drinks and smokes, though it only helps partly. His bad mood worsens steadily.

 

It happens one early afternoon, when he comes home from work. He drives around the corner, into their street and then pulls into their driveway, and there's a guy, standing in the middle of the street and staring at him and his car. Dean stares back at him questioningly. 

 

Then, he recognizes the messy black hair and he even thinks that he can see the blue of Cas' eyes glisten,although Cas is too far away for that. What the fuck? What is Cas doing here? It's not that Dean isn't happy to see him but it seems odd, the way Castiel is just standing there, swaying a bit, and Dean can't think of a reason why Cas should be here.

 

And all of a sudden, Castiel just topples down and remains lying down in the middle of the street.

 

_Oh, shit!_

 

Dean freezes for a second before he hastily gets out of the car and runs over to Cas. Thank god, this is a less traveled road, he thinks as he goes down on his haunches next to Castiel. He tries to think straight and runs his fingers through his hair. He gently touches Castiel's shoulder, trying to wake him up, but Cas doesn't wake up, not even when Dean is shaking his shoulder.

 

“Cas?” Dean says, voice heavy with worry. He swallows and shakes Cas' shoulder again, harder this time, but the blue-eyed boy still doesn't open his eyes. Dean bites his lip and looks around, but there is no one who could help him. Besides, the neighbors are staying away from them after all the shouting and all the fights they've witnessed by now. He doesn't even know whether John is home or not, but then again, his dad wouldn't be much help anyway, especially if he's drunk.

 

Talking of – Cas is smelling like a crappy liquor store and there are stains on his wine-red sweater from some liquid, probably booze. Gosh, how much did he drink? And what is he even doing here? And what is Dean supposed to do now?

 

It's probably best when he gets Castiel off the road for a start. So, Dean slides his hands under Cas' body, placing them on his back and hollow of the knees, and scoops him up. Cas is heavier than expected, although Dean's already noticed that he's neither skinny nor weakly, but somehow Cas is looking like a small child right now. 

 

Dean sways a bit under the weight of Castiel in his arms, but then he regains his balance and presses Cas closer. Cas clings to Dean's t-shirt with both hands and nuzzles his face into his chest. Dean resists the temptation to bury his face into Castiel's dark hair, but rather carries him to the Impala. Clumsily and afraid of dropping Cas, he opens the passenger door and carefully lets Cas slide onto the seat. Breathing hard, he straightens himself and looks at Castiel, whose eyes are still closed.

 

What is Dean supposed to do now? Should he drive Cas to the hospital? He sighs and something on the ground catches his eye. Pressing his eyebrows together, he picks it up. It's a wallet – Castiel's wallet. Apparently, it fell out of his pocket. Dean starts chewing on the inside of his cheek and takes Cas' ID card out of the wallet (there's no driver license, but he doesn't ponder on that too much). Castiel's physical address is actually not that far away and without further ado, Dean just decides to drive Cas home. 

 

He closes the passenger door and gets into the car as well. With one long look at Cas, he starts the engine. He drives slower than usual and checks up on the boy next to him every few seconds. He's strangely nervous – what is he supposed to say if Cas woke up now? But he worries for nothing, since Castiel doesn't wake up during the drive and then they're already there. They only drove about ten minutes.

 

There's a car in the driveway and Dean assumes that it belongs to Castiel's brother, since their father is rarely at home. He parks next to it and another question pops into his mind.  _What the fuck is he supposed to say to Castiel's brother?_ After all, he's showing up with his unconscious little brother.

 

Dean gets out of the car, goes quickly around it and opens the passenger door. Cas still looks so peaceful. This isn't how Dean imagined to meet the blue-eyed boy again. It's making him sad; he wonders what's the reason why Cas got so drunk (and showed up in  _his_ street), when he gets him out of the car again. Pressing Cas to his chest once again, he shuts the car door and goes to the front door, ringing the bell awkwardly. 

 

It only takes a couple of seconds, then a young man is opening the door and at the first glance, Dean sees absolutely no resemblance between Cas and his brother. But that thought fades into the background for the time being, due to the worry that's flashing over the man's face, followed by a sad resignation. Dean is a bit confused, but he clears his throat and the man looks at his face.

 

“Uh, I... I'm Dean Winchester. I went to school with Cas and when I came home today, he was in my street and just fainted, and I didn't know what else to do, so I drove him here...,” he trails off, feeling awkward. But the man nods. “Thank you, Dean. I'm Lucifer – Castiel's big brother. It's probably the best if we lie him down.”

 

_Lucifer_ . Weird name, Dean thinks, but then again, so is  _Castiel_ . Dean shakes his head briefly, focusing again. “Where?” he asks.

 

“His room is upstairs. Shall I...?” Lucifer is already stretching is arms, reaching for his little brother, but Dean shakes his head determinedly. He doesn't even know why. “No, I got him.”

 

He enters the house and goes upstairs. Lucifer follows him and opens the last door on the right side. Cas' room is relatively big, kinda messy and there are way too many pillows on the bed. But Dean just lays him down carefully, gently.

 

The moment he's not holding Cas anymore, his hands feel empty. He swallows, rubbing his face. It was comforting to hold Cas like this in a way. Lucifer stands next to him, looking down at his little brother, who seems to be asleep now. There's silence and Dean has the feeling he's invading someone's privacy – whether it's Lucifer's or Castiel's, he isn't sure; maybe both –, so he decides to leave. He already made a step in the direction of the door, but then Lucifer starts to talk. His voice is quiet and it seems like he doesn't even notice that Dean is still there. 

 

But Dean  _is_ still there and he thinks he should go, but he can't. Though, it doesn't take long for him to regret staying. But still, he isn't able to move.

 

“It's the same, every year. It just gets worse and worse. I don't... I don't know what to do anymore. He won't talk to me. He's my little brother and I'd do anything for him. I want to protect him, but I can't and I already failed to do so more than once.”

 

Dean furrows his brow, looking from Cas to Lucifer to the bedroom door and to Lucifer again. What is he talking about?  _Hell, does Dean even want to know?_

 

“It's been five years and every time I think he's over it, it just gets worse. I don't know how I could help him. I still don't know everything that happened. But he was only 13. And it was a normal day, he just visited a friend, and then he didn't come home.”

 

Oh yeah, Dean  _definitely_ doesn't want to hear that, but he just keeps staring at Lucifer with wide eyes.

 

“I called his friend, who said that Cas had already left and then I called the police. Two days. It took them _two days_ to find him and they've only found him, because he escaped and somehow he made it to a gas station. He was bruised and covered in blood, of course someone called the police when they saw him. I thought... I thought he was _dead_. For two days, I thought my little brother was dead.” 

 

Lucifer's voice is hoarse, and Dean's heart feels heavy and empty at the same time.

 

“They raped him.” Lucifer's voice breaks at that small sentence. “They just... and he was never the same. They kidnapped him and kept him in their apartment. They drugged him. He told the police everything, but he didn't want me to be there. And he could never bring himself to repeat everything, so I don't know about everything they did to him. But I've seen his scars, what they did to his body...” For a moment he trails off and Dean is sure that Lucifer isn't aware of him still being there. 

 

Dean has the feeling he can't breathe properly. There's a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

 

“And they were never charged.” Lucifer licks his lips. “They've ruined his life and never had to pay for it. He couldn't deal with it. Some nights he still wakes up screaming. He was in so much pain – hell, he still is and it's so obvious. He just wanted it to be over. I don't know how he's survived the months after it had happened. And then he turned 14, but it was a disaster and after Christmas... I think he just didn't want to start another year.” 

 

Dean swallows. There's something wet on his cheek and he only slowly realizes that he's crying.

 

“I got home early. He was in the bathroom, the door wasn't locked. There was so much blood already. I didn't think he'd wake up again. But he did, later in the hospital. I won't ever forget the look in his eyes the moment he realized that he was still alive. He was _disappointed_. I don't know how he's surviving now. I mean, he didn't try to kill himself again, but sometimes I'm not so sure if I did him a favor when I called 911.”

 

Dean looks at Castiel, wiping his face. He still isn't able to get his legs to move.

 

“My little brother, who had changed already after our mom had died, broke more and more. And our father just looked the other way and didn't care, and I couldn't do anything about it.”

 

That's it. Lucifer finally stops talking and Dean's head is spinning.  _It's too much._ Lucifer is crying silently and there are still tears clinging to Dean's eyelashes and cheeks. Why is the numbness never there when he needs it, Dean wonders. And then he finally turns around and leaves. He almost falls down the stairs, trying to get out of this house as fast as possible. He basically flees, even though he knows he can't run away from the things heard.

 

Dean runs out of the house, breathing hard, but closing the front door quietly before running over to the Impala. He drives home and he doesn't think while he's driving. His mind is completely blank. But back home, he feels  _the burden_ . 

 

He just accidentally heard Castiel Novak's life story – well, shortened, but still. Lucifer just told him Castiel's darkest secrets, the things he didn't tell Dean, and probably also not his friends. The things he didn't want anyone to know.

 

But now, Dean  _does_ know and everything makes so much sense, it hurts. Why Cas is always wearing something long-sleeved, why he was scared of kissing Dean, why he reacted the way he did when Dean called him a faggot and touched his shoulder to turn him around, why the frozen ocean just shattered, why Cas pushed him away.

 

_Why Cas is broken._

 

Dean wanted to know what happened to this gorgeous boy, but now he's not so sure about that anymore. Hell, he wanted to  _fix_ it, whatever it is, but how is he supposed to fix  _this_ ?

 

Shakily, he gets out of the car. Oh fuck, he's feeling so strange and the back of his throat is burning like he's about to start crying. He wipes his face angrily. No, he won't start crying. He has no right to cry, absolutely no right. These awful things happened to Cas, not to him – why is he feeling so terrible now? He has no right to feel this way.

 

John isn't there and Dean slumps down on the couch. How can the world just keep turning, just keep going on after he found out something like that?

 

Anger is flooding his mind. He's angry at the world because this happened to Cas. He's angry at the men who did this to him. He's angry, because these men didn't have to go to jail. He doesn't even want to know how it feels to have something like that done to you and knowing that the people who did it got away. 

 

Dean feels like throwing up. Castiel was only 13.

 

And then comes the worst, most selfish thing to his mind.  _He can't have Cas, because of it._

 

He gets up and gets a beer out of the fridge. He hates himself for thinking that, but they're both fucked up. They're both a mess, they're both pure chaos, and what happens when two storms collide? Their problems will only duplicate. There's no balance, no compensation. 

 

Suddenly, the beer is tasting nastily and he pours away the rest of it. He sighs heavily, running his fingers through his hair. He wishes there was someone who'd tell him what to do.

 

He's kind of angry at Lucifer for telling him in the first place, but then again, he can't really blame the guy. Lucifer looked so done and it seemed like he can't talk to someone about it, so he just spilled. And he probably thought he was just talking to himself. His anger towards Lucifer fizzles out relatively fast. 

 

Dean tries to think of what to do now, but then he hears his name, followed by loud banging on the front door. John. Dean closes his eyes for a second before he leaves the kitchen and opens the door for his father. “Dad, where are your keys?”

 

“If I knew, I had used them, don't you think?” John answers grumpily, pushing past Dean, who rolls his eyes. “Well, you could know where you've lost them, so...”

 

John just glares at him, he's clearly drunk, but not aggressive right now and he still goes into the kitchen to get a beer out of the fridge. Dean shakes his head, closes the front door and goes upstairs into his room, without another word to his father. He wishes Sam was there to distract him. He's thinking about calling his little brother, but leaves it alone, since it wouldn't be the same. 

 

He can't stop thinking about Cas and about what Lucifer told him. God, Dean feels so sick. Cas didn't deserve this, _no_ _one_ deserves this, and Castiel certainly only deserves all the happiness and all the good in the world.

 

The next days work doesn't help to keep his mind off Castiel, and he isn't able to get what Lucifer told him out of his head. It's horrible and Dean feels bad, and he feels even worse for feeling bad, because he has no right to feel bad. 

 

_Some nights, he still wakes up screaming._

 

Dean has nightmares himself and he remembers the night of the fire, the night when his mother died far too well, but he never wakes up screaming. He wakes up silently, shocked and in pain, and sometimes there are tears staining his face, but he never screams in his sleep. 

 

Lucifer doesn't know how Cas has survived the last years. Hell, Dean doesn't understand it either. How much pain is a human being able to endure before breaking, and for how long are they able to keep going  _after_ being broken? Cas  _did_ already break – he got brutally torn apart. But then again, he wanted to kill himself. It didn't work, but he couldn't bear the pain anymore. Dean honestly wonders why Cas didn't try to kill himself again, and he hates himself for that thought. 

 

The next nights he sleeps even less than before, and he's so fucking tired and drained and angry. And he doesn't go numb again. But he's also feeling so damn wired as if he were live, and that's what keeps him running. 

 

At the end of the month he pays all due bills and he's proud of himself for being able to do that. 

 

He wonders what Castiel is doing now, if Lucifer told him that Dean brought him home, and if Lucifer told him that he told Dean everything, though that was only accidentally. Dean also wonders how Cas would react to that, but he's really not sure if Lucifer was even aware that Dean was there and heard everything. 

 

It's around 8 pm, John just left the house to go God knows where – probably a bar – and Dean is sitting on the couch in the living room. He's watching TV, he found another old Clint Eastwood movie, when suddenly the bell is ringing. Confused, he looks up, only getting up hesitantly and turning down the volume of the TV. The bell rings again, longer this time. Oh fuck, what if it's Castiel and he wants to talk?

 

“Dean, can you open the door? This bag is heavy.”

 

“Sam?” Dean asks, even more confused, but he walks down the hallway and opens the front door. Sam is standing on their front porch, with his backpack and bag, a proper haircut and a little bit taller again. He smiles up at Dean.

 

“What are you doing here?” Dean asks. Sam is home too early; he was supposed to come home only in a week. 

 

“Yeah, I'm happy to see you too,” Sam scoffs, walking past Dean and letting his bag drop to the floor before giving his big brother a bone-crashing hug. Dean huffs a small breath, hugging Sam back. “No seriously, dude. What are you doing here?”

 

Sam lets him go. “School starts next week. I wanted to spend some days of the summer break with you.”

 

“Sweet, man,” Dean says and Sam rolls his eyes. “And why didn't you tell me?”

 

“It's a surprise, duh,” Sam says, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

 

“So, Bobby bought you another bus ticket?” Dean asks, wanting to keep this in mind, since he still intends on giving the money back to Bobby. 

 

“No, I bought the bus ticket,” Sam says.

 

“With what money?”

 

“Well, with some of the money I earned by helping Bobby in his garage.” Sam grins at him. Dean's eyebrows shoot towards the ceiling in surprise. “Bobby always told me you didn't want to help him.”

 

“That was also a surprise. This way you don't have to pay that much for my school supplies.”

 

Dean ruffles Sam's hair, chuckling. “Is dad here, or not?” Sam asks now and he shakes his head. “He left like half an hour ago. Come on, let's bring your stuff to your room.” He grabs Sam's bag and they go upstairs.

 

“You hungry?” Dean asks, putting the bag on Sam's bed for now, while Sam is putting his backpack next to his desk on the floor. “Yes,” he exclaims. “And how!”

 

Dean huffs a laugh, shoving his little brother to the door. They make hot dogs and Sam tells him about all the books he has read at Bobby's. Dean just listens carefully to him; he really missed his brother.

 

When they cleaned up the kitchen, Sam starts to yawn. “You tired, man?” Dean asks, smiling softly and looking at the clock. It's still relatively early, but Sam had to endure a long bus ride today. Sam shakes his head, rubbing his eyes. Dean presses his eyebrows together. “You can go to bed, Sammy.”

 

“No, I bought a movie and it's really good. I want to watch it with you.”

 

“We can watch it tomorrow,” Dean says, shrugging his shoulders, but Sam shakes his head again and goes upstairs. When he comes back downstairs just a few moments later, he's holding a DVD case in his hand and there's a big grin on his face. Dean chuckles and looks at the cover. “ _The Greatest Showman_?” he says skeptically, recognizing Hugh Jackman. “What kind of movie is it?”

 

Sam bites his lip. “Er, a musical,” he answers hesitantly, and Dean screws up his nose. “A musical? Really, Sam?”

 

“It's good,” Sam says quickly, pursing his lips. 

 

“You've seen it already?” Dean asks, wondering why the hell Sam wants to watch it with him then, and Sam nods. He wants to say no, but Sam does his fucking puppy eyes, and how is he supposed to say no to _that_? So he says yes, but grudgingly, and he starts to regret it within the first 30 seconds of the movie. But Sam is smiling and he made himself comfortable on the couch and he seems completely relaxed, and that's enough to make Dean smile.

 

He notices that Sam is eyeing him to see his reaction, so Dean does him the favor and actually watches the movie and concentrates on it. Though, he does think it will be shit (yeah okay, Zac Efron and that Zendaya chick is all his bi heart could ask for, but still). 

 

Dean never thought that he'd be swept up in such a movie, but when the credits are rolling on the TV screen, he's absolutely taken by it. Apparently, that's quite obvious and Sam smirks at him. “Wasn't so bad, huh?”

 

He just scoffs and gets up, putting the DVD back in the case and handing it to Sam, who's yawning again. “Okay, now it's time for bed,” Dean says and he doesn't have to say it twice. He tucks his little brother into bed after they've brushed their teeth, but he doesn't go to bed himself. He goes back downstairs into the kitchen and leans against the counter, staring out of the window. 

 

His mind is racing once again and he almost curses Sam for making him watch that movie, but just almost, since he actually liked it. Although it flicked a switch inside of him. He isn't sure, but he thinks that that's the reason why Sam wanted to watch it with him so bad. His mind doesn't shut up, but it takes him until after midnight to allow the realization  _that it wasn't just selfish but downright stupid to think that because of Castiel's past they won't ever be together_ to hit him. 

 

And only then, it also hits him that Cas is probably thinking the same and that that's really the reason why he pushed him away in the first place.

 

Suddenly, Dean is feeling hollow. Cas has to think that he wouldn't want him because of his past, because of what has happened to him. Dean closes his eyes for a moment and takes stock of himself, but he is dead certain _that he still wants Castiel_ . That he knows now what has happened to Cas doesn't change anything. It doesn't change the feelings he has for Cas in any way.

 

He licks his lips and he knows that he has to make a decision. It takes another hour to do so and then John comes home, drunk as usual but in a kind of good mood. Dean brings him to his bedroom door and John pats his shoulder. Tomorrow, John is going to notice that Sam is back and there will probably be another fight, but Dean doesn't want to think about this just yet. And nevertheless, when Dean is finally lying in his bed, there's a small smile on his lips, no matter how nervous he is now.

 

John is still asleep, when Dean and Sam leave the house the next morning. Dean has to work and he decided unceremoniously to take Sam with him, so he's not alone at home when John wakes up and finds out that he's back. Sam took books and stuff to draw and write with him, and he's allowed to sit down at the desk in the office of Dean's boss. 

 

Surprisingly, Dean's shift passes by in the blink of an eye – at least for him. While Sam packs his stuff, Dean is thinking about the fact that he can't bring Sam home now. Either John will be there or he will come back, and he really doesn't want to leave Sam alone with their dad. But he also can't take Sammy with him. He bites the inside of his cheek and wonders where he could bring Sam, and then he hits on an idea –  _Pamela's diner._ Yeah, that's good.

 

They get into the Impala. “Hey man, I've got to do something. Is it okay if you spend some time at Pamela's diner?”

 

Sam shrugs his shoulders. “Yeah, sure. What are you going to do?”

 

“Uh, well remember, I told you I like someone?” Dean asks, rubbing his neck awkwardly. Sam raises his eyebrows, already grinning at him. Dean pulls into the parking lot of Pamela's diner and turns off the engine, facing his little brother again. “I'm... I'm gonna make a move.”

 

Sam's face lights up immediately. “Does that mean I'll meet her soon?”

 

Dean huffs a small breath, flicking Sam's ear and getting out of the car. His brother follows him, looking at him. “At least, tell me how it went, okay?” Sam pouts as they enter the diner. Dean smirks. “Mh, maybe.”

 

Pamela is thrilled to see them again and insists that Dean eats a slice of pie before he leaves. When he's sitting in the Impala again, he knows that Sammy is in good hands.

 

Nervously, he starts to drive.  _The Greatest Showman_ is laying in the glove box and Dean knows for sure that he wants to do this. But he doesn't know how Cas is going to react. Nevertheless, he drives to Castiel's house and parks in the driveway again. This time Lucifer's car isn't there, what means that he isn't home, what might be a good thing. Dean pockets the DVD case and gets out of the car, ignoring his tenseness. Without thinking about it too much, he rings the bell – before he might get in the car again and drive off.

 

Cas opens the door, looking gorgeous as ever, wearing black sweatpants and a blue hoodie that compliments his eyes. And damn, the last time he saw Castiel, Cas had his eyes closed the entire time and Dean missed the blue ocean so fucking much.

 

Castiel seems pretty surprised, seeing him standing on his front porch, but there's also something else in his eyes that might be fear. Dean bites his lip, wondering what Lucifer told Cas.

 

“Dean,” Cas says, and _fuck_ , his name sounds so good said with this gravelly voice. 

 

“Hey,” Dean says awkwardly. Maybe he should have thought about this a little bit more, because now he doesn't know what to say, where to begin. 

 

“What are you doing here?” Cas asks. There is the sadness in these blue eyes again. Dean answers honestly. “I wanted to see you.”

 

Castiel's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Why?”

 

“You okay?” Dean asks carefully and Cas breaks eye contact, shrugging his shoulders halfheartedly. “I... uh, I have to thank you, I guess,” he says quietly, looking at Dean sheepishly. “For bringing me home after... you know...,” he trails off.

 

So, Lucifer  _did_ tell him that Dean brought him home, at least.

 

“Nah, it's okay. It was no big deal.”

 

“No, I have to apologize,” Cas says, but Dean shakes his head. “No, you don't,” he says sternly. Castiel looks at him questioningly and Dean returns his look. It hurts to know what has happened to Cas, but it's so fucking good to see him again, to see the blue of his eyes and to hear his voice. Dean feels so fucking happy because of that. _He's actually talking to Cas again._

 

“Can I come in?” he asks. Cas tilts his head at those words, still looking sad. “Dean, what do you want? What are you doing here?”

 

“I thought we could spend some time together.” He smiles at the blue-eyed boy, who is silent for a moment. 

 

“Please,” Dean says, but Cas shakes his head briefly. “I don't think this would be a good idea, Dean.”

 

Dean looks down. “Why not?”

 

Cas doesn't answer and he looks back up. “Cas, I...”

 

Castiel is looking so sad and he's silently begging him to go and to stay at the same time. Dean knows Cas is broken and he knows now to what extent, but he's still the most gorgeous person Dean has ever seen. He still wants him, so he finally has the guts to say his next words. 

 

“I miss you.”

 

Cas stares at him, totally taken aback, slightly shaking his head, but he doesn't seem to know what to say.

 

“I just want to watch a movie with you. I think you'll like it.” Dean sees the hesitation that's still covering the blue, but he ignores it. “My little brother made me watch it yesterday and I thought I'd hate it, but I actually really liked it.” Carefully, he steps a little closer and Cas doesn't step back.

 

“I'm asking for not even two hours. Please, Cas.” Dean tries his best puppy eyes look and Cas huffs a small laugh, running his fingers through his messy black hair. Dean holds the DVD case up and Castiel stares at it for a few seconds. Then, a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. Dean wants to kiss that smile, but he knows that would be too much. His heart already starts beating twice as fast at the soft expression in these fucking blue eyes and at Castiel's next words.

 

“That's my favorite movie.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Castiel is listening to is Always by Panic! At The Disco btw :)


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on a roll :') 
> 
> This chapter is shorter than the last ones and I hope that's fine. Dean & Castiel are finally making steps in the right direction.
> 
> So, I'm looking forward to your comments again! 
> 
> ~ KC

Dean is standing a little awkwardly in Castiel's hallway and has a look around. A white staircase leads upstairs, framed photographs adorn the wall, there's a shoe rack and a coat rack, both white-lacquered and a contrast to the dark plank floor, just like the staircase. It's pleasantly cool inside.

 

Cas closes the front door and rubs his right arm, looking at Dean as if he didn't know what to do now.

 

“Your favorite movie?” Dean says, raising one eyebrow and trying to break the ice – it's only a thin layer, but still, it's there. They haven't really talked for weeks, after all. But Cas starts to smile a little and suddenly the ocean is glistening. Dean has to swallow.

 

“Well, one of my favorite movies. You thought you'd hate it?” Cas says, pretending to be offended. Dean huffs a laugh, following Castiel into the living room. There's the same dark plank floor as in the hallway, a big blue couch, two equally blue armchairs, a glass coffee table, a cabinet, a TV, a fire place and more framed photographs. Dean doesn't see Castiel's father on any of these photos. Just him, his brother and images of different sceneries and animals. 

 

Dean has absolutely no idea why Cas let him in – into the house and also in a metaphorical sense. But hell, he's just glad that he did and he doesn't want to start asking any difficult questions right now. He doesn't want to get kicked out in no time.  _ He doesn't want to screw this up. _

 

Cas takes the DVD case out of his hand and puts the DVD into the player, turning on the TV by remote control. He's chewing on the inside of his cheek. “Do you want to drink something?” he asks. Dean shakes his head and Cas sits down on the couch, looking at Dean and smiling sheepishly. He seems nervous – what is very endearing – and fuck, Dean is nervous as well. He really doesn't want to mess this up. He sits down next to Cas on the couch, returning his smile with fake confidence. 

 

“You wanna start...?” Dean asks after a few moments, biting the inside of his cheek. Cas looks at him, taking a deep breath, and then he nods and presses play.

 

Dean doesn't sit very close to Cas (definitely not as close as he wants to), in order not to scare the blue-eyed boy. But he also doesn't sit as far away as possible from him. There's just an appropriate amount of space between them, just enough that they won't touch each other accidentally. Dean doesn't want things to be awkward and he tries to relax, leaning back and hoping that Cas is able to relax, too.

 

Every now and then, he eyes Cas and it's evidently that he has watched this movie many times. He starts smiling before certain scenes even happen and sometimes, he's mouthing the lines. It's unbelievably cute. But Cas also eyes Dean again and again, and sometimes their eyes meet for a few seconds before they're able to look away quickly, both of them smiling.

 

During all songs, Dean watches Castiel attentively and it seems like Cas also knows the lyrics to all the songs. But during the duet of Zac Efron's and Zendaya's characters, he's smiling softly, though he seems sad by the end of the song.

 

None of them says something until the credits are rolling. Cas gets up and puts the DVD back into its case, holding it in his hands and staring at Dean, who's still sitting on the couch. 

 

“Time's up,” Dean says slowly, returning Cas' look. He's not able to ban the sadness completely from his voice. In return Cas nods slowly, wrinkling his forehead and looking at the DVD case now. He bites his lip and then opens his mouth, as if he wanted to say something, but it takes him a moment to do so, and Dean doesn't pry. He just waits nervously, his heart fluttering in his chest.

 

“We can do this again.”

 

“Watching a movie?” Dean asks, feeling hope rise inside of him. 

 

“Or something else. If you want to.” Cas looks at him again, just in time to see the big grin that suddenly appeared on Dean's face. Dean gets up from the couch and goes over to Cas, gently taking the DVD case out of his hands.

 

“Of course, I want to.”

 

“Of course,” Castiel repeats, starting to grin as well. The sun hits the ocean, making it sparkle as if the surface was furnished with a million stars. Dean really wants to kiss him right now – he wants to kiss Cas all the time, but especially right now – but he looks away before be does something rash. Cas isn't okay and that's more than obvious; he's looking so fucking tired. But Dean is able to make him smile again and for now, that's enough.

 

“Can I have your number?” he asks. “That's the easiest way to arrange to meet,” he explains, shrugging his shoulders. Cas hesitates, but then he shrugs as well. “Okay.”

 

They exchange phone numbers, Dean is feeling strangely giddy, and then Cas walks him to the door. Before he opens it, he holds Dean back, who looks at him questioningly. 

 

“Thank you, Dean.”

 

“For what?” Dean wonders and Castiel looks away for a moment, but then he meets his eyes again. “Just...,” He shrugs, trailing off and biting his lip. Dean gets the impression that Cas is quarreling with himself and he swallows, thinking of what to say. But all of a sudden, Cas steps closer, kind of hesitantly but still, and  _ then he's wrapping his arms around Dean _ . Dean is surprised – pleasantly surprised – and he huffs a small laugh, hugging Cas back.

 

He knows that they're hugging for longer than maybe necessary, and definitely for longer as is customary, and a warm feeling spreads through his whole body. He hugs Cas tighter automatically and when they let go, they're both smiling.

 

Dean leaves the house with a good feeling. There's a pleasant tingling in his stomach – fucking  _ butterflies _ probably. Castiel took the step and hugged him first. It couldn't have been any better as a start.

 

He picks up Sam at Pamela's diner, who looks at him expectantly as soon as he enters the diner. In front of Pamela, he's able to control himself, but as soon as they're in the car, Sam is bombarding him with questions. Dean chuckles, telling his little brother to calm down. But he's in such a good mood and willing to share some details with Sammy.

 

“We watched a movie.”

 

“And?” Sam asks. 

 

“And we hugged,” Dean answers and he can't help but starting to smile. Sam thinks about it for a moment. “So, that was a first date?”

 

Dean bites his lip. “Not really.”

 

“Oh... but you'll see her again, right?” Sam asks excitedly.

 

“Yes. We agreed on that.” Dean hesitates before he continues speaking. “When someone's really special, it's okay to take things slow.”

 

He parks in front of their house and Sam is grinning at him. “Oh my god. You've got it bad.”

 

Dean rolls his eyes and gets out of the car, but he's smiling, and when they're in their kitchen, Sam asks one last question for now. “You really like her, don't you?”

 

Dean looks at his little brother and nods. “Yes, I do.”

 

While Sam gets a can of coke out of the fridge, he sends Cas a quick text, just saying that he's arrived at home. Cas answers right away – that's a good sign, right? – asking if Dean just wanted to make sure that he didn't give him a fake number. Dean smiles at that, ignoring the look Sam shoots him.

 

He replies  _ maybe _ . And then  _ I'm glad you didn't do that, though _ .

 

_ I'm glad you were here. _

 

Dean stares at that sentence for a few seconds and his heart is beating loudly in his chest.  _ Me too _ .

 

He can't stop smiling; even if he wanted to, he wouldn't be able to stop. Sam raises his eyebrows at him. “ _ Wow _ ,” he says quietly, knowing that he has never seen his big brother like this before.

 

And then, John is standing in the doorway. They didn't even know that he's home and now he's glaring at them. Dean knows instantly that their dad is sober.

 

“Hey, dad,” Sam says, trying to smile at John. After all, they haven't seen each other for a few weeks. Dean pockets his phone, carefully getting up and wanting to put himself between John and Sam in case of a fight. 

 

“You're back,” John says, superfluously. He's definitely sober, what's almost a miracle. Dean is tensed up, he doesn't know what to expect, but he's intentionally moving slowly, in order not to anger John even more. Sam nods, when John doesn't say anything else. “I'm back.”

 

“School starts soon,” Dean throws in and John just shoots him another glare. It's a tense and uncomfortable situation that only lasts for one or two minutes. Because suddenly their father just shrugs and leaves the house. Sam and Dean look at each other, confused, and Dean shrugs halfheartedly. “He still behaves weirdly. I don't know what's wrong.”

 

“Some things stayed the same though, apparently.” Sam eyes the new scar on Dean's face that he hadn't mentioned so far. Dean had hoped that Sam wouldn't ask any questions. And he doesn't. He doesn't ask what happened. He must have known that Dean wasn't completely honest with him and didn't tell him everything, when he was at Bobby's. Dean is feeling bad because of that now. Ignoring his guilty conscience that's tapping against his skull, he suggests to order pizza tonight. Sam agrees on it and somehow, Dean has the feeling that everything's okay between them.

 

Later, when he's lying in bed, he takes his phone in hand and taps on his messages. He isn't sure whether to text Cas or not, and what he's even supposed to text. After a few minutes of just staring at the ceiling, Dean decides to send Cas a simple  _ good night _ . It's around 11 pm and Castiel asks if Dean is already going to sleep, making him huff a small laugh. 

 

_ Already? _ he asks.

 

Cas replies quickly.  _ I guess I don't have a normal sleeping pattern. _

 

_ Apparently. _ Dean smirks, looking at the screen of his phone.

 

_ Good night, Dean. _

 

He puts his phone back on his nightstand, thinking that today was rather successful, and he falls asleep with a smile on his face.

 

 

* * *

 

 

When Lucifer comes home around 7 pm Castiel is in the kitchen – and he's cooking. The soundtrack of  _ The Greatest Showman _ is playing, not loudly but also not just as background music. 

 

Surprised and a little bit scared, he looks at his little brother, who seems relaxed. There's even a small smile playing on Cas' lips. Lucifer doesn't know what to think. Castiel hasn't really smiled _in_ _weeks_. There was the time before the anniversary, then the actual anniversary and then again the time after the anniversary. He didn't really have any reasons to smile. And now, it's still the time after the anniversary. So, what happened?

 

“Hey,” Lucifer says, and Cas turns half around. “Hey.”

 

“You're cooking.” Somehow, it sounds more like a question. Cas just shrugs. “Yeah.”

 

He doesn't say anything else and Lucifer doesn't know if he should be relieved or worried. Maybe, he's both at the same time. The days before and after the anniversary were more than hard and the anniversary was a disaster, after all. He had hoped that Castiel would stay at home that day, but he didn't and _thank_ _god_ , that boy found him and brought him home. Although, Lucifer doesn't know why he left without saying something.

 

All in all, Lucifer has a lot of reasons why he should be worried about his little brother. And now he seems weirdly  _ okay _ . That's kind of scary.

 

While Castiel finishes cooking, Lucifer sets the table, trying unobtrusively to keep an eye on Cas. But really, Cas seems okay somehow, and he just wonders what's the reason for that. He knows that Cas didn't have to work today. What happened that put him in a relatively good mood?

 

Of course, Castiel does notice the looks Lucifer is shooting him and he knows that it has to be strange and maybe even a little bit scary for his big brother to see him like this. Cas is actually feeling  _ okay _ at the moment.

 

Hell, Cas is more than a little scared himself, but he knows exactly  _ why _ he's feeling okay – because of Dean.

 

When the green-eyed boy stood in front of him today, Castiel was so surprised and also afraid, since Lucifer has told him that Dean brought him home on the day of the anniversary. 

 

Cas doesn't remember any of it. He remembers getting drunk and wanting to see Dean, but that's it. He doesn't know what happened then. And he didn't know why Dean should want to see him again. 

 

But then, Dean said that he  _ misses _ him. And Cas realized once again how much he's missing Dean. And of course, there was also the movie. When Dean showed Cas what movie he wanted to watch with him, he made the decision to let Dean in.

 

Sure, initially he was nervous and the whole thing was terribly uptight, but Dean was also nervous and somehow, that calmed Castiel down.

 

During the movie, they looked at each other again and again, and then quickly looked away again and again. But they were both smiling. Cas felt comfortable in Dean's presence once more. And during that one song – the duet of Zac Efron's and Zendaya's characters –, he took encouragement from it, though it also made him oddly sad somehow. Cas thinks Dean noticed that. 

 

However, Cas couldn't get Missouri's words, what she told him regarding Dean, out of his head the entire time. 

 

_ These feelings that you have for Dean won't disappear all of a sudden. _

 

_ Communication is important. If you don't talk to Dean, how are you going to find out what he's thinking and what he wants from you? And Dean doesn't seem to hate you like you thought he did. _

 

It was very difficult to bring himself to do it, but he actually told Dean that they could do something together again. And the grin on Dean's face has been worth it.  _ Of course, I want to.  _ That simple sentence made Cas weirdly happy, and at first he didn't even realize what he was feeling. He didn't recognize the happiness inside of him, because he hasn't felt like this for a really long time. It was strange and scary and just odd, but it felt like he was rediscovering something inside of him, even though he couldn't say what it really was.

 

They even exchanged numbers and Castiel can't believe that he agreed on that. But the hug was what took most strength to do. And it has also been absolutely worth it, because Dean hugged him back. Cas knows very well that they hugged for longer than it's usual, but somehow he doesn't mind. He doesn't even care. It felt nice to hug Dean. 

 

Maybe because of all that, he managed to kind of flirt with Dean when they were texting, and to be brave enough to tell Dean that he's glad he was there.

 

All things considered, right now Cas is feeling okay and he knows it's noticeable. 

 

Lucifer and he eat in silence for a few minutes, and the music continues playing.  _ The Greatest Show. This Is Me.  _ Then his brother asks. “No  _ Panic! At The Disco _ today?”

 

Cas shakes his head slightly. “Was in the mood for this,” he mutters and Lucifer nods hesitantly. 

 

After dinner they watch some TV, but they both know that Castiel is miles away. He keeps thinking about today and about Dean. He missed the green-eyed boy so fucking much and it felt so good to see him again, to hear his voice again. And the way Dean hugged him back – it felt amazing. Cas can admit that to himself. 

 

When he goes to his room, he knows that he won't be able to sleep yet, so he gets his own DVD of  _ The Greatest Showman _ and sits down on his bed with his laptop. About 20 minutes later, he gets another text from Dean.  _ Good night. _

 

A smile flashes over his face. Without thinking about it, he replies  _ You're going to sleep already? _

 

_ Already? _ Dean asks and Cas huffs a breath.  _ I guess I don't have a normal sleeping pattern. _

 

_ Apparently. _

 

Smiling, Cas writes  _ Good night, Dean _ . Then, he puts his phone aside and continues watching the movie.

 

The next days Cas and Dean are texting every now and then, and it makes Cas smile every time. He knows very, very well that they're kind of flirting with each other and it really scares him, but it also feels so good. He remembers Missouri's words –  _ It's not a bad thing that you like him – _ and decides to talk to her about it.

 

Of course, he just  _ has _ to talk with Missouri about this, and she seems relieved because Dean and he are finally talking to each other again, and because Cas had the guts to say that they could do something together again. She doesn't say it, but he has the feeling that she's kind of proud of him, and maybe she doesn't even have to say it, since Cas just knows. Furthermore, she reinforces Castiel's decision to talk to Dean again and also tells him that he should meet up with Dean soon. 

 

Cas thinks about this and wonders what Dean and he could do. He isn't able to come up with anything useful. But the next time he talks to Charlie, she gives him an idea. Apparently, there's this new movie about zombies playing in the cinema, and she wants to watch it – for whatever reason. Cas isn't a big fan of movies about zombies, but Dorothy isn't able to go and watch it with Charlie on Saturday, and Cas suggests on a whim that they could watch it together. Her face lights up immediately. “Really?”

 

Cas chuckles. “Yeah, really. Hey, let's ask the others if they want to go with us.”

 

Charlie nods happily, but just Benny, Gabriel and Meg are available on Saturday. Cas bites his lip. Sheepishly, he asks Charlie if he could invite someone else as well. 

 

“Who?” she asks surprised, wrinkling her brow. Her red hair had grown quite long, but a few days ago she cut it again. The hair tips are just softly grazing her shoulders now. 

 

“Uh... maybe I'm talking to Dean Winchester again.”

 

“What?” Charlie stares at him with mouth agape. 

 

“Yeah.” Cas shrugs awkwardly. There's a glint in Charlie's eyes and she starts to grin, elbowing him. She tries to hide it, but he knows she's beside herself with joy because of it.

 

“Of course you can invite Dean,” she says, not being able to stop grinning. Cas rolls his eyes halfheartedly. He's fairly sure that she's going to tell the others, but that's alright. Benny, Gabriel and Meg are going to see Dean on Saturday anyway, if he'll say yes.

 

But just as a precaution he calls Crowley himself, since the Brit should hear it from him. Besides, he has to apologize to Crowley and also to thank him. Crowley was right, after all. Dean  _ does _ him good, and now Castiel is able to start admitting and allowing that.

 

Though, Crowley doesn't want to hear any of that. “Oh,  _ stop talking _ , Castiel. I don't want an apology or a thank you from you. First of all, I didn't really do something. And besides that, I'm just glad that you did something.”

 

“But still, I have the feeling that I need to apologize to you. I wasn't exactly fair with you.”

 

“I didn't have a problem with that,” Crowley answers. “I knew not to take it personal.”

 

Cas nods, even though Crowley can't see that. “Okay. So, it's all good?” 

 

“It's all good,” the Brit affirms, huffing a small breath. Cas exhales with relief. Their conversation comes to an end and they agree on ending the phone call, but before Cas can hang up, Crowley says something again. “Hey, Cas?”

 

“Yeah?” he asks.

 

“It's a good decision.” A small pause occurs. “I hope so,” Castiel says quietly, but he appreciates Crowley's approval.

 

Afterwards, Cas isn't sure whether to text or to call Dean to ask if he wants to go with them on Saturday. He's fiddling with his phone, but then he sighs and nervously presses the green button. Dean answers the call after a few moments. “Hey,” he says, sounding surprised but also happy to hear from Cas.

 

Apparently, Dean is at work – he already told Castiel that he's working at one of the garages in town, and in return Cas told Dean that he's working at Missouri's shop and at Pamela's diner – but he has a break right now and they can talk. And before he can chicken out, Cas just asks Dean, chewing on the inside of his cheek while waiting for Dean to answer. 

 

“Yeah, I'd love to,” Dean says. “But I have to talk with my brother first. Is that okay? I'll get back to you later.” 

 

Cas doesn't really understand what Dean's little brother has to do with it, furrowing his brow, but he agrees. “Yes, that's okay.”

 

He has to work today as well – a late shift at Pamela's diner – and he waits impatiently for Dean to text him. Pamela notices how distracted he is, but she doesn't mention it, since it doesn't interfere with Castiel doing a good job.

 

When he finally gets a text from Dean, saying he can go with them on Saturday, a smile lights up Cas' face. He ignores the questioning look Pamela shoots him and quickly texts Charlie, who's going to reserve the movie tickets.

 

On Saturday they meet in front of the cinema at 7:30 pm. Charlie has picked up Cas and then Gabriel, and Benny and Meg came together. Dean is the last one to arrive and he seems nervous, but that's dying away relatively fast. Benny and Charlie are really happy to see Dean; Charlie even hugs him. Cas and Dean also hug very briefly, and Gabriel and Meg start to tease them again a little bit right away, especially when Charlie ensures that Dean and Castiel are sitting next to each other in the cinema hall. Dean doesn't seem to mind any of this though, and Cas is glad about that.

 

They watch the movie – that's actually not as bad as Cas expected it to be – and when they step out into the close and hot night air, Cas envies the others. He's the only one who's wearing something long-sleeved, but of course no one mentions it. They make their farewells, Cas hugs Benny and Meg and wants to hug Dean again as well before he follows Charlie and Gabriel to Charlie's car. But then, Dean asks if he should drive Cas home and Cas could swear that he hears Charlie saying  _ “Yes!” _ under her breath. He hesitates briefly, looking Dean in the eye, but after another moment he nods. “Yeah, sure.”

 

He doesn't react to the looks of the others and just farewells also Charlie and Gabriel, but he sees the grins on his friends' faces. Cas ignores them completely, since he's already nervous because he's going to be alone with Dean again.

 

Dean has parked his car close by here and they walk the few moments in comfortable silence. Before Cas gets into the car, he tries to remember that time when he drove with that car once already. But he still can't remember, although he's standing right in front of the car now, and he doesn't want to continue thinking about that day.

 

The sky is clear and star-studded, and Cas enjoys the view. He knows that the drive won't be too long and that's a great pity, because he wants to be near Dean for a bit longer, although that's a scary thought. 

 

When they're there, Dean parks by the side of the road in front of his house, turning off the engine and facing him. The lights are still on, so Lucifer is still awake; he probably waited for his little brother to come home. Cas looks at Dean, who's smiling at him softly. The realization hits him that this is actually happening.  _ He's actually sitting in this car with this beautiful boy, who's looking at him the way Charlie always looks at Dorothy. _ And Castiel just has to smile at that thought, even though it is downright frightening. 

 

“I'm glad you asked me to do this,” Dean says quietly, as if he's scared to break the silence. 

 

“Me too,” Cas replies, returning Dean's smile. 

 

“I'm also glad that you called me instead of just texting,” Dean admits after a few seconds, and Cas looks at him questioningly. “Why?”

 

“Well, it was nice to hear your voice again,” Dean says, looking out of the front window. Castiel sees the faint blush that's covering Dean's cheeks suddenly, and he looks fascinated at the green-eyed boy and swallows. “Good to know,” he says low-voiced and forces himself not to look away when Dean looks at him again, a little taken aback. Cas chuckles and shakes his head, being staggered by himself. 

 

Castiel is still terrified, but the way Dean is smiling at him tells him _it's_ _okay_.

 

This time Dean hugs him first, carefully and gently, and also a little awkwardly in the confined space of the car, but Cas lets it happen and he allows himself to melt just a little bit against Dean. Again, they hug for quite a long time before Cas gets out of the car, waving Dean goodbye. There's a smile on his face when he enters the house, and his brother looks at him questioningly, but doesn't say anything about it.

 

A few minutes later – Cas is already in his room –, Dean texts him that he's arrived safely at home and another  _ Good night, Cas _ . 

 

Cas thinks about Dean's words, what he told him in the car –  _ well, it was nice to hear your voice again _ – and sends him a voice message, without thinking about it too much. “Good night, Dean.”

 

On Monday Castiel is working at Missouri's shop and tells her all about Saturday, since it's helping him to understand everything that's happening. He's also voicing misgivings, but she calms him down. “The only thing that matters right now is that you're feeling better, because of Dean.”

 

And then she tells him that she'd like to meet Dean, the sooner the better. Cas is a little surprised by that, but nevertheless he promises her to ask Dean if he wanted to accompany him on Wednesday, when he has his next shift at the shop. 

 

After work he meets up with Meg at the park. They blow smoke rings in each other's faces and Meg tells him about slimy men that are just passing through town and think they have every right to flirt with the young barmaid. 

 

“What about you and Dean?” Meg asks eventually. Cas knew this question would come up at some point. “What about us?” he asks back innocently.

 

“I don't know. Are there any dirty details?” Meg smirks at him, and Cas rolls his eyes, chuckling. “No,” he says expressly. 

 

“You mean, _not_ _yet_ ,” Meg says with a sly smile. Cas shakes his head, opening his mouth to say something, but she just continues talking. “No, but seriously, Clarence. We're all glad that you two are talking again.”

 

They look at each other and Cas is biting his lip. “He does you good, Cas. That's just a fact.” Meg shrugs her shoulders, smiling at him. Cas sighs, but he's smiling back at her. 

 

Back at home he calls Dean, who agrees on accompanying him on Wednesday afternoons. “Shall I take you there?” Dean asks immediately. 

 

“Yes, I'd like that,” Cas answers, wondering if Dean can hear the smile in his voice. 

 

As promised, on Wednesday afternoons Dean picks him up at home – Lucifer isn't there, he has to work as well – and they drive to Missouri's shop. 

 

“Who exactly is this Missouri?” Dean asks, sounding a little nervous. 

 

“She's a very good friend of mine,” Castiel answers with a smile, but he's also a little nervous, wondering what Missouri will think of Dean after he's told her so much about this boy.

 

Right on cue Dean asks another question, shooting him a quick look. “Have you told her about me?”

 

“Maybe a little bit,” Cas replies evasively. 

 

Missouri is happy to see them both, but she's scrutinizing Dean as soon as he entered her shop. It's obvious that Dean doesn't know what to think of her. And then, she separates them for a start. Cas is said to clean in the front of the shop and Dean is said to follow her into the room at the back of the store. That room is functioning as her office. Dean looks back at Cas, both questioningly and also a little skeptically, who just shrugs his shoulders and grabs the broom. 

 

Dean and Missouri talk for about 15 minutes with each other. Then, Dean comes over to Cas, who's sitting behind the counter with the register on it, since he just served a customer. Dean sits down next to him on the other chair and Cas looks at him. Missouri is still in her office and apparently, she's talking over the phone with someone now. He can hear her voice, but he doesn't understand what she's saying.

 

“What did you talk about?” Cas asks as innocently as possible, trying not to show how curious he is. Dean just shrugs and looks around. “She basically just told me to... _ to treat you right _ ,” he says quietly. Cas blinks at him, feeling the faint blush on his cheeks, and he looks away, not knowing what to say to that.

 

Dean starts fiddling with a pen and Missouri comes briefly out of her office, holding a folder in her hand. “Could you organize this, honey?” she asks and Cas nods, taking the folder from her. The phone rings again and she goes hastily back into her office, closing the door behind her.

 

Cas opens the folder and starts working. Dean watches him silently, making it harder for him to concentrate properly. After a while, he returns Dean's look. “You know, you don't have to stay. This is boring for you.”

 

But Dean shakes his head. “No, I want to stay.”

 

“Why?” Cas asks, huffing a small breath, and Dean just stares at him for a long time. He has the feeling that there's something Dean's not telling him; it's like he can see it in the depth of Dean's green eyes, but he doesn't know what it is. Cas remembers how it was the same with Crowley. He wonders what keeps playing on Dean's mind. He liked to know, but Castiel doesn't dare to ask.

 

It's working well, their rapprochement. He doesn't want to ruin it again. After all, he has the guts to flirt with Dean, or to flirt back when Dean's flirting with him. And it feels nice – more than nice. It feels amazing. It's amazing to spend time with Dean again. 

 

Since they're talking to each other again, Dean has been nothing but honest with him. So, whatever it is that's on his mind, he will tell him eventually – when he's ready to do so. Castiel remembers the advice Missouri gave him regarding Crowley.  _ Sometimes, people need some time to think things through. The weight of words can be really heavy. Maybe he isn't sure if he should actually say them out loud.  _ That's applying to Dean as well, right?

 

Besides, Dean's honesty is one of the reasons why Cas is allowing the whole thing to happen in the first place. Also, Dean is so carefully with everything he does and says, and Castiel appreciates that.

 

When Dean gently takes his hand into his now, Cas is shocked and has to take a deep breath. Hesitantly, he looks at Dean, who's looking back at him nervously. “That's why,” Dean says, his voice weak. He's staring at Castiel, silently asking for permission. Somehow, Cas just knows that Dean wouldn't be mad at him, if this weren't okay for him.

 

But it  _ is _ okay for him. Cas swallows; he has a lump in his throat. Nevertheless, he nods, seeing the relief in these green eyes right away. Dean bites his lip, probably to hide his smile what's very endearing. 

 

Cas closes his eyes for a moment, exhaling shakily, before he continues working, a warm feeling spreading through his whole body, starting from the hand Dean is holding. 

 

They're holding hands and Cas can't believe that this is actually happening. He forces himself not to hide his smile, because he wants Dean to know that this is really okay and that this is really something that he wants to do. 

 

Suddenly, his shift is already over and Dean offers him to drive him home. Cas nods and Missouri comes out of her office again to farewell them. She still has some work to do, but there's a gentle smile playing on her lips when she looks at them.

 

“Could you go ahead?” Cas asks Dean, who hesitates noticeably but he leaves, glancing at Missouri a bit uneasily. Cas looks after Dean and then he asks Missouri what she and Dean talked about earlier. 

 

“I gave him an advice and I also told him that he can always come to me, when there's a problem,” she answers. Cas nods, but as to that he doesn't ask any further questions. There's something else that's giving him more cause for concern. 

 

“You told him to treat me right.”

 

“Yes, I did. Does he?” she asks, scrutinizing him now. Cas huffs a breath, wrinkling his forehead. “Yeah, I think so.” He smiles at her and she returns his smile.

 

Dean waits for him at the car, leaning against the hood. Castiel just has to smile at the sight and Dean smiles back at him, though he's looking at him questioningly.

 

“Missouri likes you,” Cas states, and Dean huffs a small laugh. “She's a special person. And she really cares about you.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Does she always say what she thinks and it always sounds so, I don't know,  _ wise _ ?” Dean wonders, going around the car and opening the driver's door. Cas chuckles, getting into the car as well. “I think so. Yes.”

 

“I don't know why, but the way she is, she kinda reminds me of Bobby,” Dean says absentmindedly, starting to drive. 

 

“Who is Bobby?”

 

“Bobby Singer. Old friend of my family,” Dean answers and Cas nods. 

 

“Do you have to go home right away?” Dean asks all of a sudden. Cas stares at him for a moment. “No. Besides, my brother is still working. Why?”

 

Dean shrugs a little. “I just thought we could do something.”

 

“And what?” Castiel smiles; he's glad to be able to spend even more time with Dean. It definitely beats being alone at home.

 

“We could go to the park,” Dean suggests and Cas agrees on it. It's still summer what means it only gets dark late in the evening, and it's only shortly after 7 pm. 

 

Dean parks the car near the park, they walk to it and enter it. Since it's still summer, it's warm – Dean is only wearing a dark blue t-shirt over grey jeans. But he's also wearing his work boots, like always. They sit down at a table nearby the playground. A woman is there, pushing a baby stroller, and also a young couple, probably just a few years older than Dean and Castiel, and they're going running. Besides them, Cas and Dean are alone in the park, or at least in this part of it, and they are also undisturbed. 

 

Cas looks up, but of course there aren't any stars yet. The sky is still blue and on the horizon, he sees a few shreds of grey clouds that wouldn't bring any rain. When he looks back down, Dean is staring at him. They're sitting next to each other on a bench and Dean scoots a little closer. Castiel's heart starts to beat faster and he doesn't know if he's ready for whatever happens next. He isn't even sure if he's ready just to talk about it.

 

But Dean only takes his hand again, making his heart almost leap out of his chest, and intertwining their fingers this time. “This is okay, right?” Dean asks softly, squeezing his hand. Cas smiles sheepishly. “Yeah, this is okay,” he says quietly, almost whispering.

 

Dean starts to draw small circles on the back of Castiel's hand with his thumb to calm him down. “This feels nice,” Dean says, interrupting the silence. Above the trees there are some birds, flying around. Cas just smiles. He totally agrees with Dean, but he doesn't say something. He doesn't want to say the wrong thing and ruin it. Because this feels  _ really _ nice. And he isn't good at this.

 

Suddenly, a thought flashes through his mind and he bites the inside of his cheek. This could be exactly such a wrong thing to say and to ruin everything. “What?” Dean asks, noticing it right away and never stopping to move his thumb soothingly over the back of Cas' hand. 

 

“You aren't gay, right?” Castiel asks, pushing the words out before his courage is able to falter and looking at Dean, who's looking back at him for a few seconds and then starts laughing. Cas can just stare at Dean at first, since  _ dear lord, this boy truly is so fucking beautiful _ . While Dean's still laughing, Cas starts blushing because of what he's thinking. 

 

“What's so funny?” he wonders eventually, tilting his head a bit and worrying that he indeed said the wrong thing.

 

“Nothing, it's just... that you're asking this  _ now _ .” Dean chuckles – a magnificent sound. “But yes, I'm not gay. I'm bisexual.”

 

Cas nods, slowly realizing that he thankfully hasn't said the wrong thing. “Okay.”

 

“Is that a problem for you?” Dean asks, seeming worried all of a sudden. Now it's Castiel, who's squeezing Dean's hand reassuringly. “No, of course not,” he says seriously, looking Dean in the eye, who nods, relieved and calmed down again. He's also smiling again. “But you are gay, right?”

 

“Right,” Cas answers, watching a bee that's flying past him. 

 

“Just wanted to make sure,” Dean says, and Cas huffs a small laugh. Quickly, Dean presses a kiss to Castiel's hand, who stares at him with wide eyes. Dean smirks at him, not letting go of his hand. 

 

“You're blushing,” the green-eyed boy whispers and Cas shakes his head slightly, running the fingers of his free hand through his hair.

 

A small pause. Another bee buzzes quite close beside him and the birds are chirping. They're still holding hands and the sky decides slowly to change color. The blue is crossed by pink streaks by now. 

 

“It's adorable,” Dean says and everything just keeps going, although Castiel's heart skips a beat or maybe two.

 

He swallows and huffs a small, skeptical laugh. He can't believe he's allowing this to happen. First, Dean points at their interlaced fingers and then he points to and fro between them. “Is this really okay?”

 

Castiel looks at the boy in front of him and he doesn't understand the adoration in Dean's eyes, and he also doesn't understand why everything's happening so fast all of a sudden. But again, he remembers something Missouri's told him.  _ You could miss out on one of the best things that will ever happen to you. You never know. _

 

“Yes. This is really okay, Dean. More than okay.”

 


	16. Chapter 16

It's Tuesday. Dean's shift at the garage just ended a few minutes ago, and now he's standing outside, smoking another cigarette. He cleaned up the garage a bit in addition to finish fixing a motorcycle today. Speckles of engine oil are staining his grey t-shirt and he's glad, when he's going to be home soon. He wants to change his clothes, but that's not the real reason why he's really looking forward to this afternoon. 

 

Castiel will come over to spend some time with him and Sam. Sure, they won't stay at their house and Cas won't come inside for the simple reason that Dean wants to avoid a collision with John Winchester. But they will go to the park and Dean hopes that it will be fun.

 

Cas has wanted to see Sam again. Dean has hesitated and then he had to tell Cas that Sam thinks his big brother is seeing a girl, since he doesn't know he's bisexual. Cas was surprised by that, but he promised not to say something to Sam about it. Dean was relieved, especially when the blue-eyed boy didn't ask any further questions. Though, he wanted to explain it to Cas, at least briefly, but Castiel just waved away. “Coming out isn't easy. I understand that.”

 

And for now, they left it at that.

 

To be honest, Dean doesn't know what he and Cas are. They aren't boyfriends. They aren't even dating. Sure, they're trying to see each other as often as possible, between work and everything else. Dean has to look after Sammy and also after their father, and he has some responsibilities. He has to make sure that there's enough food in the house and that all the bills are paid. Cas has even two jobs, he has his big brother who wants to do stuff with him and also all his friends. And every time they see each other alone, they're holding hands. But that's all.

 

They haven't done anything else than holding hands – which is completely fine. Dean knows the reasons for that and it's really like he told Sam. When someone's special, it's okay to take things slow. And Castiel Novak is far more than just  _ special _ . 

 

Dean is actually already so happy, because he gets to see the blue-eyed boy, to spend time with him, to hear his voice, and because Cas allows him to hold his hand. That's enough for him, more than enough. Cas is letting him in slowly, but steadily, and so far he hasn't tried to push Dean away again. He's learning to trust Dean, who's trying to be as honest as possible with Castiel at the moment. 

 

They're going slow – so what? Dean isn't going to complain. They  _ are _ going. They are finally making steps in the right direction. That's all that matters to him.

 

Dean is feeling better himself, because of Castiel. As soon as he's with the gorgeous blue-eyed boy, he's able to forget about his anger, his sadness, and his worries. He can forget that he's fucked up and basically a loser, because for whatever reason,  _ Cas decided to let him in _ . Now, all that matters is that he coaxes another laugh out of Castiel's mouth, that he throws the sun into the ocean as often as possible, that he holds Cas' hand, that he compliments this wonderful boy and that he shows him he isn't going anywhere, at least not without him. He wants to show Cas that he won't disappear all of a sudden and that he won't leave him alone.

 

It feels so good to be finally able to show Cas his feelings for him, and to know that it's okay. He got the okay from Cas himself, and it's just  _ awesome _ . 

 

Dean stomps out his cigarette with the heel of his boot, smiling absentmindedly and getting into the Impala. On the way home, he hardly has to pay attention to where he's driving. Because by now, the streets of this town are familiar. While he's drumming the beat of the song that's playing on the steering wheel, he thinks that it's hard to believe how long they're already here. They moved to this town in January and now, it's August. They've never stayed this long at one place before, except for the first six years of Dean's life. But back then life was different, maybe better because his mother was still alive. Dean hates what comes next to his mind – that he hadn't met Castiel, if his mother hadn't died. Angry at himself, he shakes his head. He shouldn't think about stuff like this too much.

 

He stops at a red light, mouthing the lyrics to  _ Highway to Hell _ , and then he sees him – Alastair. Suddenly, all muscles in Dean's body are tensed and their eyes meet for a few seconds.

 

Alastair remained unchanged, apparently. The pale ill-looking skin, the eerie grin and the cold eyes are still like Dean is remembering them. He feels a spate of hate overrunning him at the sight, at the way they're staring at each other. Dean hasn't seen Al in weeks, and if he's honest, after the graduation ceremony he didn't waste much thought on the creepy guy. But now, he's seeing Alastair again, who's still staring at him with this hate-filled, yet hungry and downright greedy look in his eyes. 

 

Dean doesn't know what to think, but it's sending chills down his spine, and certainly not good ones. He feels uncomfortable and he is just able to stare back at Alastair. Then, the light's green and the driver in the car behind him is beeping at him. He keeps driving, watching Alastair in the rear-view mirror, and decides to tell Cas about this as soon as they're alone.

 

John isn't home when he enters their house a few minutes later, but Dean doesn't mind. They haven't really talked to their father since he found out that Sammy's back. But there hasn't been any fight and that's something positive, Dean thinks. Neither he nor Sam has found out what's going on with John and since they aren't talking, they aren't going to find it out any time soon. Though, that doesn't have to be a bad thing. Of course, they are avoiding each other and this isn't how it's supposed to be, but that there are no fights is a really good thing – especially if you consider the last few years, when there was a fight every day and almost every day, it ended with a fist colliding with Dean's face (most of the time).

 

Sam is sitting at the kitchen table, finishing his homework. He agreed on meeting up with Cas right away, without asking any questions. He's excited to see Cas again, since he enjoyed talking to him after Cas has saved them from Cole and when they were walking home together. 

 

Even though, Dean's not ready to come out to his little brother just yet, he wants Sam to like – if you like, to approve of – Castiel. So, he's a bit nervous.

 

Cas wanted to be here in half an hour. Dean has time to shower quickly and to put on some fresh clothes, and then he forgets about the efforts of the hard work of today so far. When the bell rings, he puts on his best smile while rushing downstairs. Sam is in his room, he just brought his stuff upstairs, and Dean wants to have a few moments alone with Cas. He opens the front door and finally, he's looking into these blue,  _ blue _ eyes again. 

 

The gorgeous boy that's standing in front of him is smiling back at him, and Dean allows himself to get lost in this smile for a few seconds at least before he hugs Cas, who automatically wraps his arms around him to hug him back. Dean knows how much negotiation all this costs Cas every time, and that's the reason why Dean would never pressure Castiel into doing something.

 

They let go of each other, when Sam comes downstairs and says hello to Cas with a smile. He seems genuinely happy to see Cas again and Dean lets out a small sigh of relief. As soon as they leave the house and start walking to the park, Sam and Castiel start a conversation. It's another warm day. Dean is wearing an  _ AC/DC _ t-shirt and jeans, and Sam is wearing jeans and a simple white t-shirt. Only Cas is wearing a red, long-sleeved sweater and ripped jeans; Sam seems surprised by that but thankfully he doesn't mention it.

 

Dean is really just relieved that they seem to get along so well. 

 

They spend a few hours at the park and their topics of conversation are ranging from  _ Harry Potter _ to the importance of bees. Most of the time, Dean doesn't take much part in the conversation. He simply enjoys that they're being together, and since Sam is so focused on talking and listening to Castiel, he is able to watch Cas untroubledly inconspicuously. They're laughing a lot, due to all the jokes they're making, so the ocean is shining brightly the whole time and Dean can just bask in it. At some point, they even start trying to deduce the other people at the park like Sherlock Holmes and they fail miserably, but it just makes them laugh even more.

 

Dean even forgets about Alastair for the time being, but when it starts to get dark, they bring Sam home. His little brother farewells Cas and enters the house, while Dean stays with the blue-eyed boy for another moment.

 

“Do you have to go home already?” Dean asks, biting his lip. 

 

“What's the alternative?” Cas asks, stepping a little closer. Dean chuckles. “The alternative would be that we go back to the park and have some alone time.”

 

“Sounds good,” Cas says after a moment, and Dean takes his hand briefly, squeezing it slightly. “Wait a second,” he says, before going inside and making sure that John isn't there. Lately, John doesn't come home before midnight, so why should it be any different tonight? Besides, Dean doesn't want to stay away for long anyway (only as a precaution nevertheless). 

 

Cas and he go back to the park – it's around 10:30 pm by now – and they sit down under a tree, near the playground and the bench where they held hands for the second time. Immediately, Dean takes Castiel's hand, intertwining their fingers automatically, and of course, it doesn't escape his notice that Cas starts to smile at that. Cas is still insecure, but he's allowing it and that's a good sign and also a big step. Dean is strangely confident of the future of their relationship, of where they are going from here.

 

Without beating about the bush, he tells Cas about Alastair, and Cas listens carefully, furrowing his brow, and it's like what Dean just said casts a cloud over his face. “I've seen Alastair as well,” Castiel says. “A few times actually.”

 

Dean looks at him, a little surprised. “Really?”

 

Cas nods. “Haven't you heard?”

 

“What?” Dean asks curiously. 

 

“Alastair's disappeared,” Cas says, shrugging his shoulders. Dean frowns. “What do you mean?”

 

“Well, clearly he hasn't completely disappeared. But he was supposed, and still is I think, to repeat the last school year – again. He didn't show up, he didn't come back to school. Apparently, he's keeping a low profile. Nobody knows where he is, or what he's doing. He doesn't have any family here, and Malachi is the only one from his little gang who stayed in this town.”

 

“What about Ruby and Cole?” Dean asks, looking at Cas. His thoughts are racing, because of all these new information. He didn't know about that. He also didn't really care, since – as previously mentioned – he didn't pay much thought to Alastair lately. He didn't have any reason to, not until he's seen Al again and realized that he's still watching him somehow.

 

“Cole joined the army,” Cas answers, leaning his head against the trunk of the tree. “And Ruby left the town. I doubt that she'll ever come back. She has always hated it that she had to accept a subordinate role to Alastair.”

 

They keep quiet for a few moments, just holding hands and Cas looks up at the stars through the branches of the tree. And Dean just looks at Castiel, enjoying the view and the presence of the blue-eyed boy. They're both wondering about the same questions. What does Alastair still want from them? Why is he still watching them? 

 

Sure, Al is a super creepy freak, but that can't be the only explanation for this. Right?

 

Dean asks those questions out loud, but Cas just shrugs. “In turn, Alastair has always hated it that he had to accept a subordinate role to me.” He smiles grimly. 

 

But then, they don't talk about this topic anymore. Dean wants to enjoy his alone time with this gorgeous boy for a little while longer. So, he tells him how glad he is that Sam and he get along so well. Cas starts to smile. 

 

“Sam is so smart. It takes absolutely no effort to have an adult conversation with him.”

 

“I've noticed,” Dean laughs. “You two talked a lot.”

 

Cas chuckles lightly. “You're very smart as well, Dean,” he says seriously. Dean shrugs halfheartedly, rubbing his neck awkwardly and looking at the ground. He presses his eyebrows together. “Nah, I'm not,” he says eventually.

 

“You are,” Cas emphasizes. 

 

“If you say so,” Dean says after a moment of silence, not looking at Cas. Cas squeezes his hand. “I know so.”

 

Dean stares at their intertwined fingers, a small and shy smile is playing on his lips.

 

Two days later, Dean has a day off and Castiel has a late shift at Pamela's diner. They meet up around 9 am; Dean comes over to Cas' house. 

 

Lucifer isn't there, he's working, and Dean is thankful for that. He isn't sure if he could see Lucifer and keep a straight face. But by now, he is sure that Castiel's brother doesn't know that Dean had heard everything he'd said, because Cas would've talked to him about it. Or worse, he wouldn't be talking to Dean anymore, at all. That's the reason why Dean didn't volunteer to tell Cas that he knows about his past. He's scared that the blue-eyed boy will stop talking to him then – once again.

 

Well, it would be a reasonable reason this time at least, but Dean still doesn't want that. He wants to continue spending time with Cas. It's such a good feeling that he's finally able to do that again. And now, he's even able to hold Cas' hand and to hug him. 

 

He also considered the possibility that Lucifer just didn't tell Castiel. But if Lucifer actually remembered that Dean had heard everything and if Lucifer was actually aware that Dean had been there, when he'd said those things, Lucifer would have confronted Dean with this by now. Right?

 

Therefore, Dean assumes that Lucifer doesn't know, that he doesn't remember it and that he indeed isn't aware of what he said out loud and what Dean heard. But no matter what, it doesn't calm his inner turmoil down. 

 

Somehow, Dean wants to talk about the things heard with Cas, but then again somehow he also better not want to do this. How the fuck is he even supposed to raise this topic?

 

And he isn't good at this anyway. Although he's already trying to be honest with Cas about his feelings, but still. He just isn't good at this – this talking about feelings, these heart to heart talks, this speaking about serious and important topics. That's also why he hasn't come out to his little brother yet. Because he doesn't know where and how to start. This stuff is so unnecessarily complicated and it always makes him feel uncomfortable and awkward.

 

Besides, Dean really wonders if it's even the best when he tells Cas, if he's even supposed to tell Cas. But then again, that's kind of selfish, because he doesn't want to tell Cas for his own sake. And doesn't Cas deserve to know that Dean knows about his past?

 

But when Cas opens the door for him that morning and smiles at him, Dean knows he's not ready to tell him, not yet. Though now, he realized that he  _ has _ to tell Castiel.

 

Maybe his inner turmoil is a little bit obvious, because Cas is looking at him questioningly. But Dean just shrugs and shakes his head briefly before hugging Castiel tightly.

 

Cas seems surprised and also a little worried, but he hides it behind another smile, hugging Dean back and taking his hand. He just starts to talk about random stuff and Dean is grateful for that. They go upstairs and into Castiel's room, sitting down on his bed. They're both sitting cross-legged across from each other, just a little space between them, so their legs aren't touching. But they're still holding hands.

 

Dean gives Cas' hand a squeeze, knowing how hard this all is for him and that this isn't going to change easily all of a sudden. And that's totally okay by him. But Dean just liked a little distraction right now from all these thoughts in his head, so he presses a kiss to Cas' hand once again, watching how Cas' breath hitches in his throat that ripples slightly as he swallows. His mouth is agape and he seems to have forgotten the end of the sentence he was just saying. He's staring at Dean quizzically, but also kind of happy and relieved, and dear god, suddenly the ocean is sparkling so fucking much.

 

Dean starts smiling and Cas starts blushing at the same time. And  _ fuck _ , Dean wants to kiss Cas, to really kiss him, but he doesn't want to overstep any of Castiel's bounds. Although, he liked to know what other effects he has on Cas. And then, he hits on an idea – a small compromise perhaps – and he hopes that it's okay. 

 

Without letting go of Cas' hand, Dean leans forward and Cas stares at him with wide eyes, but Castiel doesn't flinch and he doesn't back off. So, Dean is able to kiss his cheek.

 

Cas seems to be paralyzed from shock – he's not blinking, he's not moving at all. Suddenly, Dean is scared of having gone too far, of this being too much for Cas. “ _ Oh god. _ I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Cas,” he stammers, thinking of what else to say now, of what to do now. But then, Cas finds his voice. 

 

“No, no,” he says quietly. “Please, don't... don't apologize.”

 

Dean nods slowly, biting his lip, glad Cas is still allowing him to hold his hand. He looks down on their interlaced fingers in order not to have to look into Castiel's eyes at the moment. The whole thing is kind of embarrassing. He didn't want to make things awkward between them and now, he's actually acted just on impulse. Fucking hell.  _ How could he be so stupid? _

 

Dean's angry at himself and presses his eyebrows together. All of a sudden, there's a hand on his cheek. The touch is tentative, and he looks back up again to see the softest expression ever in Castiel's blue eyes. “It's fine, Dean,” he says, his gravelly voice so gentle like never before. “Don't be mad at yourself. Everything's fine.” 

 

Cas chuckles slightly, throat still rippling, but he's blinking again. And Dean realizes once again how difficult this really has to be for him.

 

“I'm not mad at you, Dean,” Cas continues, voice still quiet and gentle. “Okay?”

 

They just look at each other for a long time, and Dean simply takes in the softness and the reassurance in Castiel's eyes. “Okay,” he answers eventually, smiling sheepishly, his heart beating loudly and a little too fast, since Castiel's hand is still pressed against his cheek. Dean leans into the touch, slowly and carefully, and Cas returns his smile.

 

Then, Dean also takes Cas' other hand – the one on his cheek – into his other hand, holding them both tightly. “It's just... you have to tell me if something's not okay, and you have to be honest. I promise I won't ever be mad at you for it.”

 

Castiel's smile doesn't fade away, but it seems like he doesn't know what to say. After a while, he simply nods. “Okay.” A small pause, and they look into each other's eyes. “Thank you.”

 

“You don't have to thank me,” Dean says seriously, putting Cas off.

 

They continue holding hands and change topic. Cas has introduced Dean to a band (Cas' favorite band) called  _ Panic! At The Disco _ and they're listening to some of their songs now. Dean isn't really into it, but it's Cas' favorite band so he doesn't say anything against it. Besides, Dean has noticed that the music is helping Cas to relax.

 

They talk about their work and Dean gushes about the Impala for a few minutes, while Cas listens carefully, even though he isn't interested in cars. Dean appreciates that. Maybe Cas has also noticed that Dean isn't into this kind of music, but doesn't say something against it, because it's important to Castiel, and Cas appreciates that as well. 

 

After a while they go downstairs and into the kitchen. Cas gets some things out of the fridge and different cupboards, so they can make some sandwiches. Dean notices different postcards that are attached to the fridge door with fridge magnets. He points at them. “From your dad?” he asks a little doubtingly.

 

Cas huffs a small, humorless laugh. “No. They're from Ash and Garth. They're both on a road trip since the day after prom.”

 

“Oh, okay,” Dean says, having another look at them. Cas comes over to him to stand right beside him, also looking at the postcards. “They hitchhiked together for a while, but then they're parted company. Garth went to Washington, New York and Boston. He stayed with Crowley for a few days in New York. And Ash went to Los Angeles, San Francisco and also Seattle. To name a few cities they've been to.” He always pointed at the respective postcards, and Dean nods, kind of impressed and also a little jealous. “That's awesome,” he says and Cas smiles softly at him, tugging at his hand and pulling him away from the fridge and over to the table.

 

They eat in comfortable silence, until Cas' phones vibrates multiple times. He ignores it at first, but it doesn't stop and then he picks it up, shooting Dean an apologetic look. He stares at his phone for a few moments, apparently reading something, but he's pressing his eyebrows together and grimacing. 

 

“What's wrong?” Dean asks.

 

“It's Charlie,” Cas mumbles, quickly writing a short reply to all the texts she sent him. 

 

“What about her?”

 

“Nothing. It's just... she keeps asking if I want to do something on my birthday this year.”

 

“When's your birthday?” Dean asks wonderingly. 

 

“September 1 st ,” Castiel says. “But I don't celebrate it,” he adds quickly. And Dean realizes instantly (and with horror) that he knows the reason why. He remembers one of the things Lucifer has told him, regarding Castiel's birthday.

 

_ And then he turned 14, but it was a disaster and after Christmas... I think he just didn't want to start another year. _

 

Dean has to swallow. “Really?” he asks woodenly. “Why not?”

 

Cas just shrugs, not meeting Dean's eyes, because he doesn't know that Dean already knows. Dean's inner turmoil reaches another summit (or plumbs new depth – depending on how one looks at it). It feels like there's a hurricane inside of him, upsetting everything. 

 

“How old will you be?” Dean drops the previous question and just asks another one. He doesn't even know why. He didn't like the sudden silence between him and Cas, who's biting his lip now. Maybe this was also the wrong question, Dean thinks, but eventually Castiel answers him. 

 

“19,” he mumbles, not staring at Dean, but rather at the table surface.

 

Dean nods, carefully taking Cas' hand again that has been lying on the table. Cas briefly opens his mouth, as if he wanted to say something, but then he decides against it, finally looking Dean in the eye again and smiling softly, though it seems a little forced. Nevertheless, Dean returns the smile right away, although he's thinking frantically and his thoughts are just going round in circles.

 

Around 1:30 pm he drives Castiel to Pamela's diner and they arrive just in time. He even enters it with him, to say hello to Pamela at least, who he really likes. Sadly, Benny started his apprenticeship two and a half weeks ago, and now he's working at a restaurant in the next town to train as a cook.

 

Pamela is a little surprised to see them together; she didn't know that they know each other. Since Dean and Castiel didn't talk to each other when Dean was here for the first time, he didn't tell her that it has been Castiel who's recommended her diner. She urges Dean to stay and eat a slice of apple pie, and she doesn't take no as an answer. Though, Dean didn't even think about saying no – Pamela's apple pie is one of the best things he's ever eaten. 

 

He sees Cas smirking at him behind Pamela's back before he starts to work. Dean shakes his head slightly and sits down at a free table. Pamela places a plate with a huge slice of apple pie in front of him and goes back to work. But five minutes later she sends Cas into the kitchen to help there with something (it's not very busy right now, only a few tables are occupied and all the guests are served for now), and she sits down across from Dean at his table. He looks at her, a little taken aback and confused.

 

“Are you two together?” she asks bluntly, but softly. As a result, Dean almost chokes on his mouthful of apple pie. He has to cough, but still manages to stammer a word.  _ “W-what?”  _

 

He looks at the door to the kitchen to see if Castiel is coming back already. He kinda wishes Cas did. “We're not together,” he says, when he finally finished coughing. Pamela raises her eyebrows at him, a knowing smile is playing on her lips. Dean is a little in discomfort because of that and shifts around on his chair. “Really, we're not together,” he says, trying to emphasize it.

 

“If you say so,” is all Pamela says, shrugging and still smiling. “But I've seen the way you look at him, and the way he looks at you. So, you can't tell me there aren't any feelings involved. You're just not together – _not_ _yet_.” She gets up and Dean tries to chuckle, but it sounds more like he's awkwardly clearing his throat. And then Cas comes back from the kitchen, they automatically look at each other and Cas gives him a small smile before he goes over to a new customer. 

 

Pamela is grinning at Dean now and he rolls his eyes at her halfheartedly, but he knows she means well. He finishes his slice of apple pie off and farewells Castiel with a hug, and drives home. Just when he parked in front of their house, Sammy comes back from school. 

 

“Where have you been?” Sam asks, already grinning just like Pamela did about 20 minutes ago. 

 

“Shut up,” Dean grumbles as they enter the house together. 

 

“How's it going between you two?” his little brother asks before he goes upstairs to bring his backpack into his room. Dean shrugs. “Good, I guess.”

 

“Have you kissed?”

 

Dean turns around to Sam, pointing at the stairs. “Don't you want to go to your room to do some homework?” he complains. 

 

“I take that as a no,” Sam answers, snickering, and quickly goes upstairs and disappears into his room before Dean is able to reply to that.

 

The next day Dean and Sam go grocery shopping together – John has locked himself into his bedroom and only leaves it, when they aren't there or sleeping, yet again. They both are glad about the peace in their home that's there at the moment, but they both also know that it's delusive. Actually, Dean is just kind of waiting for it all to get blown up again.

 

In the supermarket – Sam is just about to pick out some pudding – they meet Charlie, Dorothy and Kevin. Charlie basically attacks Dean, jumping at him and laughing loudly. “Jesus Christ!” Dean exclaims, and Sam almost drops the basket with their groceries. The people around them are staring at them, either amused or irritated. Kevin apologizes to Dean right away, saying that they weren't able to stop her. Charlie looks at him offended, running her fingers through her red hair. Dean notices that it's shorter than it was the last time he saw her. 

 

He chuckles, pushing Charlie a little bit and she starts smiling. Dean introduces them to Sammy, who remembers seeing them at school, but he's never talked to them before. It doesn't escape Dean's notice that Sam doesn't even bat an eye, when Charlie points at Dorothy and introduces her herself, proudly as ever when she's talking about her. “That's my girlfriend, Dorothy.” 

 

Kevin, Dorothy and Charlie are grocery shopping themselves right now, but only snacks and sweets for their video games marathon. Without hesitation, they invite Dean and Sam. Dean looks at his little brother, shrugging. “What do you say?”

 

“Sure,” Sam answers, smiling. “Why not?”

 

So, Dean and Sam bring their groceries home first, before they drive over to Kevin's house, where the marathon is going to take place. They get to know Mrs. Tran, Kevin's mom – a small, kind but energetic Asian woman. 

 

Charlie and Dorothy are already there, and they all make themselves comfortable in Kevin's room, with heaps of pillows on the floor. They remind Dean of all the (a little unnecessary) pillows on Castiel's bed, and he's still intending to ask Cas why he has so many pillows. 

 

Most of the time, they're watching Charlie and Kevin, how they beat each other at different video games in turns. They cheer them both on, while eating all the sweets the others have bought earlier. Dean and Sam are having a lot of fun and they're all laughing often, and Charlie always flips Kevin off, whenever she loses. 

 

At some point though, Charlie gives Sam her controller, who looks at her with wide eyes at first but then takes it quickly. Charlie does it, because she'd like to talk to Dean. She nudges him with her elbow and he follows her to one of the corners at the farther end of Kevin's room. They take some pillows with them and sit down again. All the time they're sitting there, they only talk to each other as quietly as possible, in order that Sam doesn't overhear any of their words. But as soon as Sam starts playing, he's only focused on the game and his own conversation with Kevin. At the end of the night, Dean is going to realize amazedly that Kevin and Sam are getting along swimmingly. 

 

Dorothy joins them in the corner, sitting down on another pillow as well. Dean stares at her and Charlie, a little bit dumbfounded. 

 

“So, Dean,” Charlie starts. “What about you and Cas?” She raises one eyebrow at him and they both, Charlie and Dorothy, look at him expectantly. Taken by surprise, Dean huffs a small breath. But then again, somehow this isn't really that much of a surprise, since Charlie is one of Castiel's best friends, after all. Dean should have expected such a question eventually.

 

“What do you mean?” he asks now, as innocently as possible. Charlie flicks his arm slightly, but she's grinning. “You know what I mean.”

 

Dean shrugs a little. “I don't know,” he answers honestly. “We're just hanging out together.”

 

“And?” Charlie coaxes. 

 

“We're holding hands, maybe.”

 

“Yes!” Charlie exclaims as quietly as she can, looking at him excitedly now. 

 

“That's all?” Dorothy asks, just to be sure, grinning as well. Dean nods.

 

“To be honest, I wasn't really sure if you're actually gay, although you seemed to like Cas from the first moment on,” Charlie admits, shrugging her shoulders slightly. “It's actually a shame, because I have an awesome gaydar.” 

 

Dean chuckles. “Well, I'm bisexual,” he says quietly. Sam and Kevin are still engrossed in the video game.  _ “Oh,” _ Charlie says, and Dean's afraid of her saying something against it. But then her face lights up. “Even better. That means I can still talk with you about girls.”

 

Dorothy stares at her, scandalized, and now, Dean starts to grin as well. He's relieved and glad, and he's just feeling comfortable. Charlie apologizes quickly to Dorothy, kissing her. Dean smiles softly at them. They're a cute couple. He hopes they know how lucky they are and he kind of wants to tell them, but when he's looking at them now, he realizes that they already do know this.

 

“Did Cas talk to you about this?” Dean asks curiously. But they both shake their head. 

 

“Not really,” Dorothy says. 

 

“But after going to the movies together, it was kind of obvious that there's something going on between you two,” Charlie adds.

 

“So, everybody knows, or...?” Dean wonders, scratching his neck.

 

“Not _everybody_ ,” Dorothy says teasingly, huffing a small laugh. Charlie snickers. “The others don't know about it, though Benny, Gabriel and Meg are assuming things, since they went with us to the movies and well, _they have eyes_.” She's quiet for a moment, just looking at Dean, who looks back at her, wondering what she's thinking. But he doesn't have to keep wondering for very long.

 

“You're cute together,” Charlie says. “And you're doing Cas a world of good.”

 

Dean smiles sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders and trying not to blush. This isn't what he expected Charlie to say. Well, he didn't expect her to say anything really, but still. 

 

“Hey, maybe you can talk to Cas about his birthday,” Dorothy says suddenly. Dean looks at her questioningly, but Charlie is already shaking her head. “No way, babe. Cas doesn't want to celebrate once again, and I'm afraid we have to accept and respect that.”

 

“He never celebrates his birthday?” Dean asks, even though it's unnecessary. Charlie and Dorothy nod. “At least, as long as we know him, he never celebrated his birthday,” Charlie answers. They both seem sad about this and after a few moments of silence, they admit that they'd love to celebrate Cas' birthday with him. Especially, because they're celebrating all other birthdays together. Dean nods understandingly.

 

He's feeling an ache in his chest, because he kind of knows at least why Cas doesn't celebrate his birthday. Though, he doesn't know exactly what happened on Castiel's 14 th birthday. It has to do something with his rape – so much does Dean know, but Charlie and Dorothy and Castiel's other friends don't know about this. Hell,  _ Dean _ isn't even supposed to know about this.

 

They continue talking – and Kevin and Sam continue playing – but they change topic. In about two weeks college starts for Charlie and Dorothy and also Gabriel, and they're all excited about it. Dean tells them a bit about his work at the garage, and at some point Charlie logs off because of the subject (like Cas, she isn't into cars), and she apologizes with a small grin before getting up and joining Sam and Kevin in front of the TV screen again. But Dorothy and Dean keep sitting in the corner and they continue talking about cars and especially motorcycles, since Dorothy is a sucker for them. They talk about different models of motorcycles for about an hour, and Dean is astonished by how much Dorothy knows about this topic.

 

Around 1 am Kevin's mom brings their cozy get-together to an end. They farewell each other and Kevin and Sam agree to meet next weekend again. That makes Dean smile, because he noticed that this did his little brother good. Besides, Kevin is a very, very good influence for Sammy, and they are also going to see each other at school. 

 

Tired but content, they arrive at home and just when Dean opened the front door, John arrives as well. Dean sends Sam upstairs and to his room already, and he brings their half-drunk father to his bedroom. After he said good night to Sammy, he lies down on his own bed, realizing once again that he really needs to talk to Cas.

 

But when the fuck should he do it?

 

 

* * *

 

 

Cas leaves Pamela's diner around 10 pm. He stayed longer than he should have, but Pamela's replacement for Benny didn't feel good and had to go home, or rather to see a doctor. Pamela has thanked Cas countless times for his additional help, but he didn't want to hear any of that. Sure, she's his boss now, but she's also his friend and he wanted to help her. Besides, in the evening, it's one of the busiest times at the diner that's full with people then. Therefore, Pamela really needed his help and he was happy to volunteer it. And by now, Castiel comes square with the work at the diner.

 

The air is relatively mild and it's rather enjoyable to walk home. He needs about 25 minutes to walk from the diner to his home, and vice versa. But Dean driving him to work this noon – that was rather enjoyable as well, for the simple reason that he was able to spend some more time with the green-eyed boy.

 

Cas just has to smile at the thought of Dean, he can't help it. Ever since Dean has held his hand for the first time, a switch – or maybe even multiple switches – in Castiel's head has ( / have) been flipped. Although it's Dean who's making all these first moves – like kissing Cas on the cheek –, Cas allows it all to happen, because he  _ wants _ it to happen.  _ He wants to be able to allow it.  _

 

Sure, he has absolutely no idea what exactly they are, what exactly it is they have, but it feels so damn good. Besides, he doesn't want to put any labels on them. Not right now, at least. That would be too much pressure, and he thinks Dean will understand that, if he's going to ask such a question some time soon. 

 

He's halfway home and hoping that Lucifer put some dinner aside for him. After all, he has let his brother know that he would work longer hours, and that he can start with dinner without Cas. Now, Cas is hungry. Even though, he's allowed to eat for free at the diner, he just didn't have the time to do so today. He's thinking about what Lucifer might have cooked for dinner, when he stops dead.

 

It's dark, a few stars are sparkling above him, but he's standing in a byroad. Half of the buildings are residential houses, the other half are older stores. All buildings seem a little bedraggled in the filthy light of the few street lights. Under one of those street lights, a familiar shape is standing – Alastair.

 

They stare at each other across the street for a few long moments. Castiel can clearly see the hatred in Al's otherwise cold eyes. He assumes that his look is filled with as much hatred as well. Cas remembers that Dean told him he has seen Alastair somewhere in the town as well. He himself has seen Al a few times already, but always in the daytime. Seeing him now in the evening, when it's dark outside, is something entirely different. Cas knows very well what Alastair is capable of doing, who's always been a freak.

 

In a way, Castiel knows he himself is a freak, too. And he hates that it was Alastair, who pointed out some day that they aren't poles apart, but rather have at least a few things in common. He grits his teeth and suddenly, he decides to confront Alastair right then and there, and to ask him what the fuck he wants from them. But then, a car door slams shut somewhere nearby and the bang makes Cas turn his head in the direction from where the noise resounded. He has been so fixated on Alastair that he almost completely forgot about his surroundings.

 

When he looks back to where Al was just standing, he's only looking at the lonely street light. There is nobody anymore. Castiel looks around quickly, but he's standing alone in the street. Alastair disappeared.  _ Wow _ , he thinks.  _ Once a creep, always a creep. _

 

Castiel ends the day with a good deal worse mood than he has started it. He arrives at home a few minutes later, wondering what's going on with Alastair, why he's practically lying in wait for him and also Dean, why he's watching them and following them. Al's obsession with Castiel is comprehensible somehow, when you think about it long enough. Cas was always his opponent, his competition, and Cas always won. But Al's obsession with Dean is weird and sick, and Cas doesn't understand it. He starts wondering how long it will take Alastair to do something more than just watching.

 

Cas picks at his food. Al having the potential to be a stalker isn't a big surprise, though.

 

“Don't you like it?” Lucifer asks suddenly, sitting down next to him at the kitchen table, pointing at Cas' still full plate. “It's made with lots of love.”

 

He smiles halfheartedly at his big brother. “No, it's great. Today has just been exhausting. I'm a little tired,” he tells Lucifer, who nods. “What else?”

 

“Mhh?” 

 

“There's something else. Something you're not telling me.” Lucifer looks at him, he's downright scrutinizing him. Sometimes, Castiel hates that his brother knows him so well and can read him so easily, so at first he just shrugs in response to what Lucifer said. He doesn't want his brother to be falsely alarmed. But then he tells him about Alastair nevertheless. Lucifer wrinkles his brow, while Cas is talking. 

 

“What do you think it is that he wants from you?” he asks, when Cas finished his little report. 

 

“I have absolutely no idea.”

 

When Cas is finally lying in bed that night, he's still bothering his head about Alastair, even though he doesn't feel like doing so anymore. Besides, he isn't able to achieve a satisfying answer. Eventually, he makes the decision that for now, they probably just have to wait for whatever is going to happen next. 

 

A few days go by without something significant happening, though. Both, Cas and Dean don't see Alastair again, and Cas just had to make sure, so he asked Dean if he's seen Alastair again. He knows Dean wouldn't lie to him about that. But he had to ask him over the phone, since they're also not able to see each other at the moment. They both have to work a lot, especially Dean, although it's Castiel who has two jobs. Apparently, Dean's boss has received a lot of orders lately. But it also means that Dean is getting a bonus for all the extra work, and that's the reason why he's doing it in the first place, since they need the money. Dean has been honest with Cas about that, just like with everything else. Castiel thinks it feels weirdly good to be able to trust someone like he's trusting Dean by now.

 

They're texting a lot and that's also fine. As long as he just hears something from Dean, Cas is content. Dean always thinks about him and writes him in the morning and during his breaks and at night. It's sweet and it always makes him smile. Cas isn't used to this kind of attention, but he slowly starts to think that he could get used to this.

 

And then, they both have more time again and are able to meet up again, and it's also fine. Maybe a little bit more than just fine, because they're able to hold hands. But Cas just knows that there's still something on Dean's mind, distracting him and even making him kind of sad. He can see it in Dean's green eyes. It's like there are wisps of fog swirling over that beautiful clearing, and soiling it. And Dean still hasn't talked to Cas about it. Castiel is a little worried about what it might be, but he tries not to pay it too much thought, so it doesn't drive him completely crazy. 

 

If Dean's ready to talk about it, he will talk about it. That's what Cas keeps telling himself. All he can do is wait (im)patiently and give Dean the time he needs. Somehow, he just owns Dean this. It wouldn't be right to pressure Dean into telling him now, not when Dean has never pressured Cas into doing something. 

 

But then comes the day when Cas gets to know about what burdened Dean's shoulders so much, and he remembers once again what Missouri has told him.  _ Sometimes, people need some time to think things through. The weight of words can be really heavy. Maybe he isn't sure if he should actually say them out loud.  _ And once again, he realizes how right she's been. The weights of words can be really fucking heavy. Even though, those words needed to be said, Cas wishes Dean hadn't said them.

 

It happens just three days before his birthday. Cas' mood is worsening slowly but steadily anyway, because of his birthday that he's going to ignore intentionally as best he can. Only Dean is able to break through the dark clouds that are hovering above him again. Dean's hand in his, Dean's green eyes, Dean's deep voice – these are all things that are able to distract Castiel.

 

He and Dean are taking a walk through town. This is something they haven't really done before. Sure, they've walked together through town before, but this time Dean has explicitly asked him if he wanted to do that today. It's Thursday, and they're both having an afternoon off. Cas said yes to Dean's request, and he doesn't even know what's wrong, why he's feeling strangely worried. He just knows that something  _ is _ wrong, and that he's feeling like this. He can't explain it.

 

They don't hold hands, but that's fine. There are people around them and Cas wouldn't want to hold hands right now anyway. At some point, they leave town and walk along the edge of the forest until they're alone. Cas knows that it's Dean who's leading the way and he's secretly hoping that Dean just wanted to come here, so they'd be able to hold hands without prying eyes around them. But deep down, he knows that they're here, so Dean can finally say whatever it is that's been on his mind for so long already. 

 

Then, Dean stops walking and Cas does, too. Dean is looking at the ground, at the grass at his feet. He's toeing at it with his work boot and it's odd, but the first thought in Castiel's head is that the green of the grass is not nearly as rich as the green of Dean's eyes. He doesn't know what Dean is thinking right now, but he can see that he's biting his lip, a little harder than maybe necessary. Pressing his eyebrows together, Cas stares at him, nervously and also a little bit scared. What would Dean tell him?

 

Slowly, Dean looks up and Cas sees the dark, dark shadows that's casting a pall over his loved clearing. It's obvious that Dean has to gather all his courage; he's nodding, but more to himself. “We need to talk about something.”

 

Cas nods as well, more hesitantly. “About what?”

 

“I'm...,” Dean starts, trailing off right away. He gulps. “I'm sorry. Like really,  _ really _ sorry. Maybe I should have said something sooner. Hell, I definitely should have said something sooner. I just... I didn't know how, okay?” Dean looks at him, almost pleadingly, but Cas is just able to blink at him stupidly. 

 

“Dean, what the hell are you talking about?” he asks, and at the same moment, he has a presentiment. It's crawling up his back, and it feels like the shadows from the clearing are trying to seize hold of him now. Cas shakes his head briefly, focusing on Dean again.

 

Dean runs his fingers through his brown hair, taking a deep breath. “I know it,” he says. 

 

“You know what?” Cas asks tonelessly. For a moment, they just look at each other.

 

“I know what happened to you five years ago,” Dean says quietly, and Cas' mind goes blank. It feels like someone is pouring ice into his veins. Eventually – years could have gone by and he wouldn't know – he gasps out one word. “How?”

 

Cas is desperately trying to realize what's going on right now. But he can't grasp it, though he can feel it. It's the all too familiar feeling of things falling apart right in front of his eyes, and he can't do anything about it. He has to swallow, his throat is rippling.

 

Dean exhales shakily. “Remember the day you got so drunk and showed up nearby my house, and I brought you home?”

 

Castiel isn't even able to nod. He's just staring at Dean, digging his nails into his arm and feeling like throwing up. He can't believe this is happening.

 

“On that day, Lucifer told me,” Dean says. Cas looks at him in disbelief, wanting to scoff but no sound is coming out of his mouth. His brother would  _ never _ do this to him. There's no way. Lucifer would never... he knows what it means – something specifically horrible – and he wouldn't do that to his little brother. But Dean continues speaking and explains it. “He just spilled. I think he was talking to himself more than anything and didn't even realize that I heard everything he said. It was an accident.”

 

Cas doesn't know what to say, what to do now, hell he doesn't even know what to think. Why didn't Dean tell him sooner? Or better, why did he tell him now, when Cas was thinking it's going well between them,  _ when in reality he has already fucked up? _ What was Dean thinking? Why did he even start to talk to him again, then?

 

“Cas...,” Dean says, stepping closer, holding his hands out and reaching for him. But Castiel visibly flinches and steps back. He doesn't want to hear what Dean wants to say, because a thought just struck him. He doesn't want to hear that Dean thought he could do this, but now he realized he can't, because of what happened to Cas five years ago. And Cas doesn't want to see hatred or disgust in Dean's green eyes, when he's looking at him. 

 

So, he steps back more and more, until he finally turns around and goes into the forest. Strangely enough, he knows exactly where he is and where he's going, but thankfully he doesn't have to think about it. His feet are doing all the work, while he hears that Dean is following him. But he doesn't turn around again, since he doesn't even have the energy to tell Dean that he should leave him alone.

 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think (or more hope) that you will like this chapter <3 I'm looking forward to your comments!
> 
> Have an amazing weekend! Thank you for reading my story. 
> 
> ~ KC

“Fucking hell,” Dean mutters under his breath, when he stumbles over a protruding root  _ once again _ . He has absolutely no idea where they are. The only thing he does know is that they are very, very deep in the woods by now.

 

He has a look around, but there are only a lot of trees surrounding him, and also many bushes and shrubs. All in all, there's just a lot of green, and he couldn't even tell from where they came. He bites his lip, continuing to follow Castiel through this damned forest with no end in sight. Cas hasn't turned around again and if he's noticing that Dean's still behind him, he doesn't let it show. Dean assumes they're already walking for about 45 minutes.

 

He knows for sure – and that's a scary thought – that he won't find the way out of here again on his own. By now, he may be familiar with the town, but since the one time in winter when he's got lost in the forest, he hasn't concerned himself with the forest again, even though it's surrounding the whole town. Sure, he went into it with Sam a few times, but never this far. They only went into the part of the forest near the park.

 

So, he's actually  _ depending _ on Cas right now – on condition that the blue-eyed boy isn't stumbling blindly through the forest. But Dean has the feeling that Cas knows exactly where they are going, since he's leading the way singlemindedly. By the look of it, he just has to trust Castiel. Though, Dean does wonder for how much farther they will go.

 

He didn't dare to say something to Cas so far, because his previous words seemed to have ruined pretty much everything they had built up in the past weeks. But he's afraid if they don't reach their destination soon – wherever that might be –, he will have to say something. 

 

Even though, he really knows that these words just had to be said, Dean is super fucking angry at himself for saying them. Or at least, for the way he said them. He should have said it differently, he should have worded it differently. But he simply isn't good at this and besides, he was really fucking nervous. After all, this is a grave topic and this is also about Castiel, who is super fucking important to Dean. Of course, he was nervous, and also scared –  _ after how it went, apparently with good reason _ , he thinks, dodging some low branches. 

 

He keeps a very close eye on Cas, therefore he notices immediately, when Cas is finally slowing down. For quite a while already, Dean can hear the babbling of a brook, and now they're closing in on it. Dean is able to catch up with Cas a little bit and then, he has a first look at the stream. It's broader than expected, but the steady flowing of the water is weirdly comforting somehow. 

 

They're following the stream for a few minutes, until they come to a spot where it bends slightly to the right. During the past 150 meters they walked a bit downhill, but at the bend, there's a hill, towering above the stream. A cluster of trees is huddling on that hill, which seems to lean over the brook just a bit. And that's their very destination.

 

Cas is heading for it and reaches the top just a few moments later. He sits down on the dry grass, leaning against the trunk of one of the trees. Dean hesitates and looks around. What are they doing here? Why did Cas come  _ here _ , of all things? But Dean doesn't know what else he is supposed to do, where else he is supposed to go, so he follows Cas, still unsure. At the top of the hill he stops and just looks at Cas, who doesn't return his look. Cas is pretty much ignoring him at first and just stares into the forest on the other side of the stream. Dean follows Castiel's gaze, but there's nothing special on the other side. There are just even more trees; he never really thought about how deep this forest actually might be. The only potentially special thing here is that this spot is the most peaceful place Dean's ever been at.

 

He walks carefully over to Cas, who's still not moving a muscle. Eventually, Dean sits down next to Cas, at a remove from the blue-eyed boy, and he leans against the trunk of a different tree than Castiel. It's quiet and really peaceful, but it's also starting to strain his nerves. Should he really dare to break the silence, though?

 

Dean clears his throat and opens his mouth, but no word is coming out of it. On the one hand, the harrumph was already too loud in his ears, and on the other hand, he can't think of anything to say. What the fuck is he supposed to say? He doubts that Castiel would want to hear another apology from him. 

 

It's also not helpful that there's a voice in his head, just screaming  _ you fucked up you fucked up you fucked up _ the whole time.

 

He swallows, but only when Cas finally turns his head and looks at him, the blue of Castiel's eyes silences the voice in his head. Even though, the ocean is dull and dark, as if a thunderstorm was going on right above it. Dean's heart contracts at the sight, knowing the storm is his fault.

 

“You shouldn't have followed me,” Cas says suddenly, his voice raspy as if he just chain-smoked an entire pack of cigarettes. 

 

“What do you mean?” Dean asks.

 

“Well, it's a little unnecessary, don't you think?” Cas asks quietly, looking away and at the ground between his feet. “You could have just let me walk away and that would have been that.”

 

Dean licks his lips. “I don't know what you're talking about,” he admits, just as quietly. Cas looks hesitantly back up and in his eyes is an old and profound pain from a gruesome wound. He tilts his head a bit, staring at Dean. 

 

“I don't want to hear it. I don't want you to say it. I already know it, so what's the point in telling me?” His voice is still quiet, but full of hurt. Dean returns his look, a bit confused now, but he thinks deep down he already knows what Cas is talking about. Though, his brain isn't quite there yet. “You know what already?”

 

Cas shrugs his shoulders halfheartedly and looks away once again. He sighs. “That you don't want to see me anymore. That you thought you could do it, but now you realized you can't.” He is talking to his feet, while Dean just blinks at him for a moment.

 

“I thought I could do it, but now I realized...,” he repeats, wonderingly and stupidly at the same time. And then his brain finally catches up and –  _ fuck _ .

 

_ No no no no. Oh, fucking hell. _

 

“Oh god, you think...?” Appalled, Dean stares at Castiel. Now, it's the blue-eyed boy who looks confused. “What?” Cas asks.

 

“You think that I don't want to see you anymore, because I know now?”

 

“Yes?” Cas says, but it sounds more like a question.

 

“Cas, I started to talk to you again  _ after _ I found out,” Dean says softly. 

 

“I know,” Cas replies, his voice sounding bitter all of a sudden. “That's a thing I don't really understand, and I wanted to ask you why you did that in the first place.”

 

Dean stares at him, mouth agape, and his mind is clattering. Slowly, he turns more to Cas, sitting cross-legged on the forest floor and facing the other boy. “You want to know the reason why I did that?” he asks seriously and Cas nods, furrowing his brow.

 

“Because I don't care.”

 

“You don't care.” Cas scoffs, looking more confused than ever. There's a small moment of silence and a breeze is causing the leaves above their heads to rustle. Cas shakes his head slightly, staring at Dean in disbelief now. “You don't care?” the blue-eyed boy wonders slowly, as if the words sounded strange to him. Dean nods. “I don't care. I don't care, Cas. I do still want to see you.”

 

Cas has to let that sink in first, but suddenly he huffs a laugh – humorless and painful. He runs his fingers through his dark hair and Dean looks at him questioningly. “What?”

 

“That's... that's just...” Cas doesn't seem to know what to say. He just shrugs halfheartedly and then he looks at Dean again. “Dean, you don't know what you're talking about.”

 

Dean wrinkles his brow. “What do you mean by that?”

 

Cas shakes his head more determinedly, putting his hands on the ground and pushing himself to his feet. Taken by surprise, Dean just stares at him for a few seconds before rushing to his feet as well. “What do you think are you doing?” he asks. Castiel backs away from him. “I'm going home.”

 

“Wha- no, you aren't. You can't just go now.”

 

“It's better this way, Dean. Believe me, you don't want this.”

 

“You mean, I don't want  _ you _ .”

 

Cas nods once. “Yeah,” he says.

 

“Can't I speak for myself?” Dean asks and walks up to Cas again. “Because you're really wrong about this.”

 

Castiel's blue eyes are filled with deep doubts as he looks at him now.

 

“Come on. Let's sit down.”

 

“Why?” Cas asks defensively. 

 

“Because I think we need to talk,” Dean answers. “ _ Please _ , Cas.”

 

“I'm not good at this, Dean,” Cas says quietly, staring at him like a deer caught in the headlights. 

 

“Me neither,” Dean admits, biting his lip. “Especially because of that, we need to talk. So, there's no room for misunderstandings anymore.”

 

Cas crosses his arms in front of his chest – a form of self-protection – and shoots Dean a look he isn't able to read. “What do you want to talk about?”

  
“Well,” Dean starts. “Let's begin with something more simple. Where are we?”

 

“In the forest,” Cas replies immediately, looking at the stream. Dean huffs a breath. “Actually, I meant to ask – what is this place? Why are we here? Why did you come here?”

 

Castiel hesitates, taking a few deep breaths and closing his eyes. When he opens them again, he looks at Dean. “I don't know,” he answers eventually, shrugging his shoulders. He bites his lip and sits back down. “I always come here – to think, and to have some time alone.”

 

Dean nods, carefully sitting back down as well. “It seems like a good place to think.”

 

A weak smile tugs at the corners of Cas' mouth at that. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “It is.” He swallows and Dean waits patiently for him to sort his thoughts first before continuing to speak. 

 

“I've never been here with someone,” Cas admits, voice still quiet. 

 

Surprised, Dean looks at him. “Really?”

 

Cas nods. “I always come here alone. I found this place a few weeks after we've moved here. But I've never told anybody about it, not even Lucifer.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“I kinda wanted it for myself.” Cas huffs a small breath. “You know, this place is the only one in this whole goddamned town, where I allow myself to think about my mom, because it reminds me of her.” He wrinkles his forehead, as if he's wondering why he just told Dean this. Dean didn't expect this to be the answer to his question. “That's a very good reason to come here,” he says, voice quiet and gentle. 

 

He has never found such a place. They just never stayed long enough at one place and besides, thinking about his mom makes him sad and it hurts, so he tries avoiding to do it most of the time. And although they've been here for months, he still hasn't found such a place. Maybe because he isn't even looking for it. But this is not the right time to wonder about this.

 

Cas sighs and again, he looks like he's about to run away. Dean sighs as well. “Please, don't do this.”

 

Cas glances at him. “Don't do what?”

 

“Don't just run away, please.” Dean scoots a little closer. “No matter what you're going to tell me, it's okay. I won't leave.” 

 

Castiel pinches the bridge of his nose. He looks sad and like he's uncomfortable. Dean just wanted to give the blue-eyed boy some reassurance, but there's pain flashing through the ocean and causing great waves. 

 

“Dean.” Cas is shaking his head again. “Don't say something like that. You can't promise that, and I'm not even expecting you to stay.”

 

“But I'm going to stay. No matter what. Just... just talk to me.”

 

“Didn't you think about the possibility that I don't want to talk?” Cas asks and Dean starts to chew on the inside of his cheek. He  _ did _ think about this possibility, but he thought that it's more important for them to talk to each other finally, and he wanted to focus on that. “Do you mean you don't want to talk in general, or you don't want to talk to me?”

 

“I don't know,” Cas say, not looking at him. “Maybe both. Or maybe I just can't talk about this.”

 

Dean nods slowly. Nevertheless, he doesn't want to pressure Cas into doing something he's uncomfortable with. “Then, we don't talk about it.”

 

Cas' throat ripples as he swallows, wrapping his arms around his knees. “Can't you just leave?”

 

This question hurts, but this whole thing isn't about Dean, it's about Castiel. So, he simply ignores the pain and shakes his head, even though Cas still isn't looking at him. “I told you I'm not going to leave. And I  _ can't _ leave you, especially right now, when you're feeling like this. That wouldn't be right. But we don't have to talk. We can just sit here until you want to go home.”

 

“I don't understand. Why are you doing this?”

 

“Because I like you. And you like me, don't you? We're more than friends.”

 

“Not the point, Dean.”

 

“Yes, this is exactly the point, Cas!” Dean says loudly. Cas looks at him with wide eyes and Dean is surprised by himself. He didn't want to raise his voice. And he isn't even angry, it's just that he really wants Cas to understand and to realize that he won't leave, and why he won't do that. 

 

“I'm sorry, I just...” He swallows. “Castiel, this is  _ exactly _ the point. I like you. You like me. That's why I'm here and that's why I'm telling you I won't leave. That's why I'm going to stay. And yes, I know about your past, but you know what? I decided to talk to you again after I found out about it.” He looks emphatically at Cas. “I'm trying to be as honest with you as possible, even though I'm not good at this. But I'm trying. For you, Cas. And I'm being honest when I tell you that at first – I mean right after I found out – I thought we couldn't be together, because of what happened to you.”

 

Cas opens his mouth, probably to interrupt him, but Dean lifts a hand to stop him. “Please, let me finish. Because that's only what I thought at first. It was actually really selfish of me, immediately thinking that I couldn't have you, because of what happened to you, and then I realized that you're probably thinking the same, and...” He shrugs a bit, biting his lip. “And I also realized... well, I mean I thought about it and I came to the conclusion that you think I wouldn't want you, because of what happened to you. Apparently, I was right.” He pauses for another moment, pressing his eyebrows together. “Does that make any sense?” he asks and looks at Cas, who just shrugs his shoulders, but he's returning his look, at least. “I don't know.”

 

“Humph,” Dean makes, biting his lip again. “Well, to bring this confusing explanation to an end, Sam made me watch  _ The Greatest Showman _ and then this realization just hit me, but I was dead certain that I still want you. And I still am.”

 

“Dean...,” Cas whispers, tilting his head, leaning it against the trunk of the tree. “Please, stop talking.”

 

Dean mirrors him. “Castiel, that I know now what happened to you doesn't change anything. That's what I'm trying to tell you. It doesn't change the feelings I have for you.”

 

Silence. Not complete silence – birds are chirping, a squirrel shoos over a branch at the top of a tree and disappears again, leaves are rustling, the brook is murmuring. But there's silence  _ between them _ . 

 

Cas is staring at his hand, jaw clenched, wrinkled forehead, lips pressed together. Dean swallows with a click. “I made the decision to talk to you again. I came over and wanted to watch  _ The Greatest Showman _ together with you. The rest you know,” Dean says quietly.

 

“Cas, I understand you. I understand why you've pushed me away, but you don't have to do that anymore. And I'm not going to let you do this again. Not after you've let me in again. I mean, why did you even do that?”

 

“I'm not sure,” Cas answers hesitantly. “I just... didn't really think about it, I guess. The movie is to blame for it, a little bit at least. And then you held my hand for the first time and everything after that – it just felt good.” He shrugs. “I just didn't think about it.”

 

“That's okay,” Dean says reassuringly, but suddenly Cas shoots him an angry glare. “No, it's not okay. It wasn't fair to both of us, but especially to you. I should have thought about it more. Because it's not going to work.”

 

“ _ It _ ...,” Dean says, swallowing hard. “You mean  _ us _ .”

 

The storm is still raging above the ocean and it's breaking Dean's heart. 

 

“Yeah,” Cas says, voice breaking at that one word. 

 

“Castiel...,” Dean starts, but now Cas lifts a hand to interrupt him, and he's shaking his head. “Please, Dean. No, please. You really,  _ really _ don't know what you would get yourself into. Besides, I'm not able to give you what you want.”

 

“I want  _ you _ , Cas,” Dean says and the blue-eyed boy scoffs. “No, you don't, Dean.”

 

“How can you be so sure of that?” Dean asks.

 

“Because I'm fucked up!” Cas practically yells and Dean actually flinches. “I'm fucked up, Dean. I'm a fucking mess and you don't even know half of it. Why would anybody want this?”

 

“Because this is how it works,” Dean says desperately. “It's not just about the good stuff, and the funny things, and sunshine, and  _ whatsoever _ . It's also about the bad stuff, the dark things and all the problems. It's about wanting someone even  _ after _ you know about their darkness. And Lucifer told me everything, accidentally and shortened, but still. And I still want you.”

 

Cas is still shaking his head, and suddenly he looks so fucking tired once again. “I don't want to do that to you, Dean. You deserve better.”

 

“That's my decision, Cas. And honestly, it's the other way around. You're the one that deserves better, but I promise that I'll always try my best for you.”

 

For a long time, Cas just looks at him and there's an odd twinkle in his eyes. “Dean, are you kidding me? You're  _ beautiful _ .”

 

Dean blinks at him, huffing a small breath – amazed. Is there a word for feeling like you've just been punched, but in a weirdly good way? He doesn't know what to say. “What?” he stutters eventually.

 

“You're beautiful, Dean,” Cas repeats, making it sound like the most obvious thing in the world. “And you deserve someone who can give you everything and even more. Someone who's not such a mess.”

 

“We're both a mess, Cas,” Dean states, shrugging his shoulders. “I didn't choose to like you, but I'm choosing to stay. And the only thing that I'm asking you to do for now is, please, don't shut yourself away again.”

 

Cas opens his mouth, but doesn't say something. “Cas, please,” Dean says, scooting a little closer once again. “Please.”

 

Castiel looks at him and when he finally nods, he seems to be just as surprised as Dean, but it takes a load off Dean's mind. Though, he notices that Cas has a hard time asking the next question. “What did Lucifer tell you?”

 

Dean swallows, looking at his hands. “Well, he told me what happened to you, that you didn't come home and he called the police, and they couldn't find you for two days.”

 

“43 hours,” Cas says low-voiced. 

 

“What?” Dean asks.

 

“43 hours. That's the almost exact time. I recalculated it, I don't even know why.” 

 

Dean nods slowly. “Lucifer said the police wouldn't have found you, if you hadn't escaped.”

 

“That's probably true,” Cas says, swallowing. “I don't remember how I got out of there. I only remember running to a gas station. I fell a couple of times, I think.” He wrinkles his brow. Dean's heart feels so fucking heavy right now.

 

“Dean,” Cas starts again, and all of a sudden the ocean is so fucking deep and Dean feels like falling into it. “You said you're sure about this, and I believe you. I believe that you really think that. But I'm telling you that you can't actually be sure about this, since you don't know everything.”

 

“And you think that I'd leave, if I knew everything?” Dean asks, after he thought about Castiel's words for a moment. Cas shrugs, not looking at him again. “But I already told you, Cas. No matter what, I'm going to stay.”

 

“Don't... please. You can't promise that.”

 

“I can.”

 

Cas bites his lip. “Dean, I already pushed you away once, because I know that you'd hate me and wouldn't want me, if you knew.”

 

“Yeah, I get that now. And I wanted to hate you, because you just stopped talking to me without giving me an explanation. But I couldn't hate you. Cas, I could  _ never _ hate you.”

 

“Dean, you have to understand. This is not easy for me. It's anything but easy, but you have to understand, therefore you have to know.” He takes a deep breath. “I almost died,” Cas whispers. “If I hadn't escaped, the police wouldn't have found me in time. So, I almost died and you have to know that I  _ wanted _ to die. I wanted it to be over.”

 

“But you've escaped,” Dean says slowly, trying to read Castiel's mind, but failing. He tries to link what Cas just told him to what he already knows.

 

“Yes, I did. And that's the point, Dean. I escaped and I had to go on after it. I had to keep on living, and I didn't want to. Didn't Lucifer tell you what happened after Christmas that year?” Cas says, still whispering.

 

Dean clears his throat. “He did.”

 

“That's what you really need to understand, Dean. Five years later, and there are still days where I wish I had died, or that my brother hadn't found me.”

 

For the second time in his life, Dean is experiencing how heavy and oppressive silence can be. The first time had been when his mother had died. None of them had said much at that time. Sure, Sammy had been only two years old, but Dean hadn't said a word for weeks. And now, there is such a silence again.

 

Not silence in general, because there's still the wind, rustling through the treetops, and all the animals, and the brawl of the stream. But there's real silence between him and Castiel, just like earlier but even thicker. And slowly but surely, there are questions, cutting their way through his head, from the back to the front, and they're nagging at him, now more than ever.

 

He has the feeling that Cas regrets what he just told him, that Cas has the feeling he's said too much. That's not the case. After all, the blue-eyed boy just did exactly what Dean wants him to do – being completely honest with him. Still, Dean is afraid that the situation is slipping from his grasp. 

 

Before he is able to stop himself, he's already asking the questions that are pounding against the top of his skull. “Why didn't you try to kill yourself again? How did you survive the last years?”

 

“I have absolutely no idea,” Cas whispers. “It's not that I didn't think about it again, but maybe... maybe I was scared of it not working again. You can't imagine the  _ disappointment _ I felt, when I woke up in the hospital and realized that I was still alive. But the worst was that it changed how my brother and my father looked at me.”

 

“What do you mean?” Dean asks. He'd like to hold Cas' hand, but he doesn't dare to take it.

 

“Well, my father already hated me before my suicide attempt, but ever after he absolutely despises me. And Lucifer always looked at me with such sadness and also anger in his eyes, because he couldn't do anything for me, and I think because he partly blamed himself for pretty much everything that happened. Sometimes, he's still looking at me like that. I know how difficult this all is for him, and I don't want him to be sad, or angry, and I don't want him to worry because of  _ me _ . I hate it so much.”

 

“He loves you,” Dean says and Cas nods. “I know that. It's just... I don't want to be  _ a burden _ , Dean. Why did you think none of my friends know anything about this? I haven't even told Missouri, though she's seen my scars and she probably has her own thoughts on the matter.”

 

“So, you wouldn't ever have told me?” Dean wonders. “Even though, we seemed to go in a certain direction?”

 

Cas bites his lip, hard. “I don't know.”

 

“Where did you think we were going?”

 

“Like I said, Dean, I didn't really think about it,” Cas says defensively.

 

“Don't get me wrong,” Dean says hastily. “I'm not mad at you. I just wanted to know.”

 

“How can you not be mad at me?” Cas presses his eyebrows together, looking at him questioningly.

 

“I don't have any reason to be mad at you. Are you mad at your brother now?”

 

Cas thinks about this for a moment, starting to chew on the inside of his cheek. “No,” he says eventually. “I can understand it. He probably just spilled, like you said. He doesn't have anyone who he can talk to about it, so...”

 

Dean nods, staring at the stream and watching how the water is running over stones and soil. “Can I ask you something?”

 

“You just did. But yeah, you can.”

 

Dean has to suppress a small smile. “Why did your father already hate you?”

 

“Because I'm gay,” Cas says simply, but his voice sounds bitter. Dean raises his eyebrows at him and Cas huffs a breath. “I knew that I'm queer from an early age on and I made no secret of it. I talked about boys instead of girls, and he hated it. I came out 'officially' when I was 11.”

 

Dean feels genuinely sorry for Cas, and he realizes that John would hate him even more, if he knew that he's bisexual. 

 

“You probably have more questions, right?” Cas asks, smiling weakly at him. Dean shrugs. “Yeah, sure. But you don't have to hear them, let alone answer them, if you don't want to.”

 

Cas takes a deep breath, running his fingers through his hair. “Ask away.”

 

Dean is surprised and he bites his lip, wrinkling his forehead. “Whenever you said to me that it's okay – did you mean it, or did you just say it for my sake?” he asks after a moment. “Because I wanted you to be honest. I don't ever want to do something that's not okay for you.”

 

“I was honest with you, Dean. It was really okay, everything we did. It would still be okay.”

 

Dean nods. “Would?” he wonders, and Cas bites his lip. “If you still wanted to.”

 

“Of course, I still want to. I've told you that nothing has changed.” 

 

There are still doubts in Cas' beautiful eyes, but Dean already figured that this isn't going to be easy. And that's fine. He doesn't want easy. He wants Castiel – with everything that comes with that. He's never been so sure of something and it's frightening, but god, he would do everything and more for this boy. He'd jump of the edge of the world, if it meant he could hold Cas' hand at the end of the day. He blushes at his thoughts and looks to the side, rubbing his neck and thinking about his next words for a minute.

 

“Your past belongs to you, Cas. We aren't able to change it, and I'm really sorry about that. I'm sorry about what happened to you and what you had to go through. From the first moment on that I realized there's something... wrong, that something bad has happened to you, I wanted to fix it. I still do. Though, I don't know if I'm able to do that. But what I'm able to do is to be by your side and to show you that you're not alone. I don't care about your past – with that, I mean it doesn't affect my feelings for you in any way. But I do care about your future, and if you let me, if you want to, I'd love to be a part of it.”

 

Castiel isn't smiling, but the ocean is sparkling nonetheless, and only when Cas looks away, Dean realizes his blue eyes are filled with tears. Cas rubs his eyes, sniffling a bit. “I thought you'd said you aren't good at this.”

 

Dean huffs a small laugh. “I'm really not. I just said what I'm thinking.”

 

“You know, I'd love it as well, to have you in my future. But then I really need to know for sure that you won't just leave.” Cas looks at him again. Dean returns his look and then he scoots closer again, this time until he's able to lean against the same tree trunk as Castiel, who's looking at him questioningly now. 

 

“You mean, some sort of proof?” Dean asks.

 

“I don't know,” Cas whispers, looking honestly confused. Dean can't help thinking that it's adorable. For a long moment, they just look each other in the eye and Dean feels his heart pounding in his chest, loudly and strongly. He remembers Anna Milton's party on Valentine's Day when he wanted to kiss Castiel, and also how wrong it felt to kiss Anna. He looks at Castiel's lips. Slowly and carefully, he raises a hand, grazing Cas' cheek, his jawline, with his fingertips. 

 

Cas swallows audibly and Dean leans closer. With his thumb, he touches Cas' lip ever so gently. “Be honest,” he whispers. “Is this okay?”

 

At first, there is no reaction from Cas at all, but then he nods once and that's all Dean needs. He bridges the small gap between them and then his lips are pressed against Castiel's. He's gently; it's a soft kiss that makes his skin prickle everywhere. The kiss lasts for a few seconds, Dean pauses for just a breath of air, and kisses Cas again and again. Cas kisses him back hesitantly; one of his hands is gripping Dean's t-shirt tightly. 

 

Dean moves his hand away from Cas' cheek to the back of his head to rake his fingers through Castiel's soft dark hair. A combination of a firework on the 4th of July, the atmosphere at a concert, watching a meteor shower and finally finding what you've been looking for is exploding inside of him. Yes, this is _definitely_ better than kissing Anna Milton. This is better than kissing anybody he's ever kissed before. This is what it feels like to kiss _the_ _right person_.

 

When they stop kissing, he sighs happily. Dean can't remember if he's ever felt this warm before. He opens his eyes – he also doesn't remember closing them – and he sees that Cas' eyes are still closed. All at once, he's afraid that it's too much, that it was too much for Castiel, but when the blue-eyed boy opens his eyes after a few seconds as well – holy shit, the ocean  _ is on fire _ . 

 

Cas chuckles nervously, letting go of Dean's t-shirt, and Dean smiles softly, hesitantly touching Cas' face. Castiel takes his hand and they intertwine their fingers. “I promise I won't leave,” Dean whispers. He doesn't want to demand too much of Cas, so for now he doesn't tell him what he just felt. It's downright scary and he couldn't even really explain it anyway. But now that he has kissed Cas, he knows for sure that he wants this for the rest of his life.

 

“How is this enough for you?” Cas asks, and Dean knows right away that he means  _ himself _ . “How is this good enough for you?”

 

Dean squeezes Cas' hand reassuringly. “You are enough, Cas. A thousand times enough.”

 

He's hoping with all his heart that Cas will believe him one day. For now, he just gives the blue-eyed boy another sweet kiss, since for now, he just has to believe for the both of them. 

 

“You wanna go home?” he asks. He has lost any sense of time, and he couldn't say for how long they've already been here. 

 

“What about your other questions?” Cas wonders.

 

“That were enough questions for today,” Dean decides. “If that's okay, we'll continue this conversation on another day.”

 

Cas bites his lip and a blast of air goes through the flames in the ocean, but the fire doesn't go out. “Okay,” he says and Dean hears the fear in his voice. Again, he presses a kiss to Castiel's lips and then he gets up, not letting go of Cas' hand, and pulls him up. 

 

“So, where do we have to go?” he asks, looking around. Cas looks at him quizzically, squinting a bit. “You really don't know?”

 

Dean shakes his head, admitting that he got lost in the forest once, just when they've moved here. That makes Cas laugh a little, but he's still looking so insecure. He leads the way and Dean knows without the blue-eyed boy, he wouldn't have found the way out of here again, or at least not so fast. They still have to walk for about an hour until they're finally standing on a street again, but they're close to Cas' house.

 

They don't meet anyone on their short way to Cas' home, but even if, Dean wouldn't have let go of Cas' hand. Lucifer's car is parked in the driveway, right next to the Impala. Dean realizes they've been in the forest for quite a long time.  _ Damn it _ , he thinks – Sammy. But his little brother hasn't tried to call him (Dean never has his phone just on vibrate, just in case Sam tries to get in touch with him), so hopefully everything's fine at the Winchester's household. 

 

“Hey, I have to go home now, to look after Sammy,” he tells Cas, when they're standing on the front porch. 

 

“I understand,” Cas says, but he looks like he doesn't want Dean to go. Suddenly, he's hugging Dean, and he wraps his arms tightly around Castiel, pulling him even closer. “When do you have to work tomorrow?”

 

“I have a late shift at Missouri's shop,” Cas mumbles into his shoulder. 

 

“I'll meet you there, okay?”

 

Cas nods as he lets him go. There's so much Dean wants to say, but he doesn't know how and it just would be too much. So he just says  _ Bye _ and drives home. He doesn't exactly know how to feel, but no one can say that today hasn't been successful. At the beginning, it didn't went like he expected it to, or like he hoped it would go. That they went to this place in the forest, that was  _ very _ unexpected. But then, it got better. 

 

Fucking hell –  _ they've kissed _ . Dean has finally kissed Cas and he won't ever let this boy go. He himself isn't able to comprehend completely what he's feeling for the gorgeous blue-eyed boy, but he doesn't need to, not yet. They're going to figure everything out  _ together _ .

 

Dean parks in their driveway a few minutes later, and a grin sneaks on his lips.  _ He's kissed Castiel Novak! _ He's going to show Cas every day that he'll stay, no matter what, just like he has promised him. Just because they both have fucked up pasts doesn't mean they can't have a bright and beautiful future – together. Right?

 

 

* * *

 

 

Cas watches Dean driving away until he can't see the Impala anymore. He doesn't know how to feel – not at all. He's weirdly pumped and tired at the same time. 

 

Lucifer opens the door behind him and yanks him back to reality. “Wasn't that this Dean?” his brother asks and Cas turns around. Lucifer is leaning against the door frame with his shoulder, hands in the pockets of his jeans, looking at him questioningly. Cas just nods, walking past him and entering the house.

 

“Is everything okay?” Lucifer asks, slightly worried. Cas stares at him for a moment; he feels like he's in a dream and about to wake up. “Yeah, I think so,” he answers, almost absentmindedly. 

 

“You think so?” Lucifer asks doubtingly and Cas just nods again. There's a lot he has to think about and he'd like to be alone for a while now. 

 

“Are you and Dean friends, or...?” Lucifer wonders, rubbing his neck. Cas squints at his big brother. “What do you mean?” he asks, trying to sound innocently. He licks his lips. Lucifer's question has whirled up his thoughts.

 

“I looked out of the window, when you two arrived,” Lucifer says casually, leaning against the staircase now. Cas bites his lip, staring at their shoe rack. “Dean and I are friends,” he mutters. “He is nice.”

 

“You were holding hands,” Lucifer states and Cas shrugs. He's decided not to tell his brother that Dean knows what happened to him, because of him. He doesn't want to hold this against Lucifer, and maybe it's even for the better. This way, Cas didn't have to start telling Dean about his past; he doesn't know if he had been able to do that. So, isn't it easier somehow, now that Dean knows and Cas knows he knows? He isn't sure about that yet. 

 

“Are you two dating?” Lucifer asks carefully. Cas shakes his head. “No, we're friends. Dean's just... he's really nice. And maybe he  _ means _ something to me,” he admits. 

 

Lucifer nods slowly. “Just be careful.”

 

Cas knows what he means, but they don't talk about it. His brother makes dinner (some sort of pasta, Cas doesn't pay a lot of attention to what he's eating), and Lucifer seems to understand that Cas doesn't want to tell him about Dean right now. At least, he doesn't ask any further questions. Castiel is grateful, and after dinner he retreats to his bedroom. 

 

Before he lies down on his bed, he quickly puts some cozy clothes on. One arm tugged behind his head, he's staring at the ceiling. His other hand is laying on his chest at first, but a few minutes later, he touches his lips with his fingertips absentmindedly. It takes him a few more moments, but then the realization hits him like a train –  _ fuck _ .

 

He and Dean  _ have kissed _ . They've fucking kissed. Dean has kissed him. Cas sits up again, still touching his lips.  _ Dean Winchester has kissed him and he, Castiel Novak, has kissed him back!  _ A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. Fucking hell, he has kissed Dean back, and nothing bad has happened. He presses his eyebrows together, in disbelief. Nothing bad has happened – neither did he have an anxiety attack, nor did he run away.

 

He lets himself sink back into his pillows. Hope is blossoming inside of him; it's like a small flower that manages to break through a closed snow cover in the dead of winter. It feels weird and unfamiliar, and Castiel wrinkles his forehead. Kissing Dean felt good – it felt absolutely fantastic, and Dean kissed him again and again, and that means he liked it as well, right?

 

Cas starts biting his lip again. It seems so wrong that Dean still wants him, even though he knows about Cas' past now. Dean still doesn't know everything, but as much as today Castiel hasn't talked about his past _ in years _ .

 

Maybe he shouldn't have done this. Maybe he shouldn't have let Dean kiss him. This way, Cas only encouraged him, and Cas could have an anxiety attack at any time. He could push Dean away and hurt him again at any time. Dean could start to hate him, although he said that wouldn't happen.

 

Cas doesn't know what to do. A part of his mind is telling him that he shouldn't even take a shot at it, and instead he should call Dean immediately and tell him that he changed his mind and that it isn't okay. But this isn't what Cas wants. After all, he has Dean let in, and now even more.  _ He wants Dean. _

 

He swallows and his heart starts whispering, and maybe he should actually listen to it. Don't they say  _ Listen to your heart, but take your brain with you _ ? If he listened to his heart, that wouldn't mean he left his brain behind. And his heart is telling him to see what will happen next. What if Dean is really going to stay, despite all of Castiel's problems? That'd be great. Cas trusts Dean – it's so strangely easy for him to trust Dean, and to be comfortable with him. And if Dean actually wants him, shouldn't Cas just enjoy it?

 

But to be able to listen to his heart, he has to gather all his courage and to leap over his anxiety. He tries to breathe steadily. Well, no one said it'd be easy. Of course it's hard, but isn't it so worth it? Isn't  _ Dean _ worth it? 

 

All of Castiel's fears – if he's able to face them, if he's able to overcome them, and could have Dean then, wouldn't it be worth it?

 

Cas nods to himself. Maybe he doesn't understand why Dean still wants him, but maybe they can figure things out  _ together _ . With this thought in his head, he falls asleep and this time, he sleeps without dreaming for about ten hours.

 

Though, when he's sitting in Missouri's shop the next day, he's nervous. How is it going to be, when he sees Dean again? What is going to happen, what are they going to do? How is Cas supposed to behave?

 

Missouri notices his nervousness and eyes him every now and then, but she doesn't ask any questions. Cas hasn't told her yet what happened between Dean and him, since he had to explain a lot more then. And he can't do that. It's hard enough to try to open up to  _ one _ person. Besides, he always had the feeling that she just knows.

 

But his nervousness and all his worries (he's afraid it's awkward between them now) disappear as soon as Dean enters the shop and Cas sees his face. Horrified, Cas jumps to his feet and comes to meet Dean. They stop before one another. 

 

“Hey,” Dean says softly, but Cas doesn't react to that. “What happened?” he asks, eyeing the big scratch on Dean's forehead that hasn't been there yesterday. Dean also looks like he barely slept last night, or even not at all.

 

Cas prods gently at Dean's face, not even realizing what he's doing until he's touching Dean's skin. The green-eyed boy flinches a bit, carefully taking Cas' hand in his. “It's nothing,” he says, trying to give him a reassuring smile. 

 

“Doesn't look like nothing,” Cas says, wrinkling his brow.

 

“I agree with Castiel,” a voice behind them interferes in their conversation. Missouri is there, a pile of plates in her hands that she quickly puts on a shelf now. She doesn't mention that Dean and Cas are still holding hands, she just peers at the wound on Dean's face. After a few moments of silence, Dean is said to follow her. Cas goes with them and they enter Missouri's office, and she gets a small bottle out of one of the drawers. 

 

Dean sits down on a chair, while Missouri drips a few drops of a liquid onto a cotton pad. She cleans the wound with it and Dean grimaces. Cas assumes it stings a bit, but Dean doesn't complain about it. Instead, he quietly thanks Missouri.

 

Her phone rings suddenly, and Cas and Dean leave her office. They sit down behind the counter. “What happened?” Cas asks again, staring at Dean, who shrugs. “My dad was just drunk,” he mumbles eventually, not looking at Cas. “It's no big deal. It happened before, and it will happen again.”

 

Cas would like to tell Dean that it's in fact a big deal, but he knows Dean doesn't want to hear this. Of course, Cas has noticed Dean's former injuries – he came to school with a black eye or a new scratch every other day, after all. Though, Cas has never said something about it. What would be the point? They both just don't have the best dads in the world. Still, he's feeling sorry for the green-eyed boy.

 

“Is Sam okay?” Cas asks, and without thinking about it, he takes Dean's hand and slowly intertwines their fingers. Hesitantly, Dean looks up and  _ god _ , he's looking so fucking tired.

 

Cas remembers that Dean said yesterday he's a mess as well. Now, Cas has the feeling he can see all of Dean's demons lurking behind him. And he really doesn't want to add all of his own demons to that. He doesn't want to be a burden for Dean, and maybe it'd be just selfish to 'keep' Dean, because he's making him feel better.

 

But when Cas looks Dean in the eye now, it seems that the demons are backing off. He doesn't understand why or how, but maybe –  _ just maybe, for whatever reason _ – Dean needs him as much as Castiel needs him. Maybe he's doing Dean good, in a way that they both can't really comprehend. It's just happening and  _ maybe _ it's a good thing.

 

Cas wonders where they will go from here, but maybe it's going to be fine, because Dean is going to be there.

 

The green-eyed boy smiles at him. “Yeah, Sammy's okay. He was at school and now he's with Kevin. They're friends, I think.”

 

“Kevin told me.” Cas nods, returning Dean's smile. “I'm glad Sam is okay.”

 

“Me too.” Dean squeezes his hand softly, licking his lips. “How are you?”

 

Cas swallows, shrugging his shoulders. “I'm feeling weirdly okay,” he answers. Dean stares at him for a second. “Is that a good thing, or...?”

 

“Yeah, it's a good thing, Dean.”

 

Dean seems relieved. He helps Cas clean up the shop a bit, and to reorganize some of the shelves. They don't talk that much while they're working, and Cas is half expecting to wake up and Dean to disappear. He doesn't mean to be clingy, needy or pushy, but he takes Dean's hand as often as he can, and just tries to stay close to him the whole time. Dean doesn't appear to mind, though.

 

They talk normally about trivial things, and Dean makes silly jokes to make him smile and laugh as often as possible. And Cas does actually smile and laugh, although it feels kind of strange, but just because it's still so unfamiliar. 

 

And whenever Castiel is able to make Dean smile or laugh, it's like being in the forest on a warm summer day and there are rays of sunshine peeking through the green of the trees. It warms Cas' heart and blocks out his own shadows. He's just trying to take in as much as possible – the feeling of Dean's hand in his own (warm, heavy and reassuring), the sound of Dean's voice (rough and soft at the same time, like rolling thunder and pattering of drizzle mixed together into one sound), and just little things about Dean, about this beautiful,  _ beautiful _ boy, that he himself probably doesn't even notice. 

 

The way he bites his lip and presses his eyebrows together, when he's thinking. The way he stares at Castiel, when he manages to make him smile or laugh – so wonderingly and in awe that it makes Cas' heart beat faster. The way he walks with his bow legs, so confident and unsure at the same time sometimes. The way he also tries to be as close to Cas as possible – he subtly shifts every so often in order that their arms or hands brush together. 

 

It's all so incredibly  _ sweet _ , and Cas doubts that he'd be able to tell Dean to leave him alone right now. 

 

After his shift they farewell Missouri and Dean asks him if he should drive him home. Cas hesitates, but then he nods, reminding himself to push his fears to the back of his mind. When they're sitting in the Impala, he takes Dean's hand again, because it's easier then to do so.

 

Dean parks in front of Cas' house. They're still holding hands, and Cas is glad Lucifer isn't there yet, since he doesn't want to get out of the car just yet.

 

“You okay?” Dean asks quietly. Cas just nods, looking at the green-eyed boy.

 

“You sure?” Dean wonders.

 

“Yeah, I'm sure, Dean,” Cas replies just as quietly, looking at their interlaced fingers now. Cas' fingernails are painted red today, just like on the day when he has met Dean for the first time. It's weird what details stick in the mind. 

 

“What are you thinking about?” Dean asks. 

 

“I just remembered something,” Cas mutters, looking at Dean again. “And what?” the green-eyed boy asks with a smile.

 

“I had painted my fingernails in a similar color like I'm having now, when we first met.”

 

Dean looks at Castiel's fingernails as well, and a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “I remember that, too.”

 

“You do?” Cas asks, amazed. Dean nods. “Yeah, of course.” He bites his lip, coming a little nearer to Castiel, who swallows. “You wanna know the first thing that came to my mind, when I saw you for the first time?”

 

There's a tingling in the pit of Cas' stomach and Dean's green eyes are sparkling like two emeralds in the sun. 

 

Cas nods slightly. Dean lifts his other hand, carefully touching Cas' face. Castiel feels the heat on his cheeks as Dean traces a line from his temple to his chin with his forefinger. He thumbs over Cas' cheekbone, whose breath catches in his throat. 

 

“I thought you're the most gorgeous boy I've ever seen.”

 

Immediately, Cas searches for the lie in Dean's face – in his eyes –, huffing a breath in disbelief. But there's no lie, or at least he isn't able to find it. And then, Dean starts to grin. Maybe Cas isn't able to find the lie, _because_ _there is no lie_. 

 

“Really?” he whispers, holding Dean's hand tightly. 

 

“Really,” Dean whispers back.

 

Cas expects him to ask what he thought when he's seen Dean for the first time, but Dean doesn't do that. “Do you wanna know what I'm thinking right now?” he asks instead. Castiel looks at him questioningly, and his heart is already almost jumping out of his chest, since they're so close. He exhales shakily. “Tell me what you're thinking right now.”

 

Dean chuckles, staring at Cas with adoration in his eyes. Then, he lets his gaze drop to Castiel's lips. Cas' heart is beating so loudly by now, he's sure Dean is able to hear it.

 

“I want to kiss you again.”

 

Cas is surprised by how fast his heart is able to beat, but it wouldn't be much of a surprise, if it just stopped right now. He blinks at Dean, who's giving him the time to really understand his words. A few moments pass by, and it slowly starts to be getting dark. 

 

“Can I kiss you again?” Dean asks, his voice quiet and soft. “It's okay if you say no,” he adds, gently squeezing Cas' hand. Cas nods slowly. He wants to kiss Dean again, and although his anxiety is trying to suffocate him, he's telling himself that it's okay. This is Dean in front of him, and the green-eyed boy is still here, despite  _ everything _ , and this beautiful boy is also thinking about kissing him. 

 

Castiel takes a deep breath. “I want to kiss you again as well.”

 

Dean smiles widely at him, leaning forward and then his lips are on Castiel's again. 

 

And Cas – Cas stops thinking and also worrying. His mind goes blank, blissfully this time, and he just  _ feels _ . Dean's lips are warm and so soft, and Cas just melts. It's even better than their first kiss, even though he doesn't know how this can be possible. 

 

The kiss is sweet, full of unspoken words, and Cas can feel the reassurance Dean's trying to put into it. He has closed his eyes and there's just Dean – his lips, his hands, his smell. Dean smells like cheap body wash and cigarette smoke, but there's also something that's just Dean. Cas can even taste it. It's strong and refreshing, and it reminds Cas that there are good things in this world. Dean tastes like a mixture of heavy rain and sunlight trapped in a small box with holes in it to let some rays out. 

 

Cas kisses Dean back, hesitantly putting his free hand on Dean's neck, threading his fingers through Dean's hair, pulling him a little closer while doing so. Dean pulls in a sharp breath through his nose, huffing a small laugh against Cas' lips before continuing to kiss him. There are goosebumps prickling on Cas' skin and it feels like there is something warm, burning inside of him, so brightly that it kicks his demons out of his head for the time being. It's like Dean is able to put some of the sunlight into Cas through the kiss. 

 

There's no urgency, no rushing. Dean nips gently at Cas' lower lip before pulling away. All of Castiel's nerve endings seem to be on fire, but it's a good feeling. It's a  _ very _ good feeling, since it doesn't hurt at all. He opens his eyes. Dean is still right in front of him, still so close, and they're even still holding hands. Carefully, Dean drops his hand from Cas' face and presses it against Cas' chest, right over his heart.

 

Cas knows that his heart is slamming against his ribs and Dean knows that now, too. There's a relieved glint in the depth of Dean's eyes. Without thinking about it, Cas mirrors Dean, pressing his hand against Dean's chest.

 

Dean is so fucking warm and his chest is firm, and his heart is beating with almost the same rhythm as Castiel's. They both start smiling at the same time. Cas stares at Dean, taken aback – mostly by himself if he's honest. This whole thing is hard – Castiel didn't expect anything else – but he thinks he's doing well, considering  _ how _ difficult it is to ignore his demons, his worries and his fears. 

 

Dean brushes his thumb over Cas' lips, saying what Cas is feeling as well. “Wow.”

 

And Cas blushes again. Dean's grin widens as he's staring at Cas' face. “That's still adorable.”

 

Cas looks down and at their intertwined fingers, hiding his smile. Dean gently puts his hand under his chin, making him look back up again. He presses another sweet, sweet kiss to Cas' lips that only lasts for a couple of seconds. 

 

“What was that for?” Cas sighs. Dean's hand is still on his chin and he leans into the touch. 

 

Dean shrugs, leaning a little closer once again, but this time to lean their foreheads together. “Feels good to kiss you,” he mumbles, putting his hand back to Cas' cheek, who covers that hand with his own. 

 

“So good,” Dean says and briefly kisses him once again, as if he wanted to emphasize his words. Castiel's head is swimming a bit. He totally agrees with Dean, but this is a lot to process. His mind hasn't caught up yet with everything that's happening.

 

He concentrates on his breathing; he doesn't want to get a panic attack, he doesn't want to run away from Dean again. But strangely, his breathing is already even. He wonders what that means. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that Dean is able to hold his demons off. He presses his eyebrows together.

 

“Look at me,” Dean demands softly. “Be honest,” he continues, when Cas raised his eyes, “is this really okay?”

 

Cas thinks about this for a moment. He isn't sure what he's exactly feeling. He knows that his demons will creep back as soon as Dean's not there anymore, but for now Dean is doing what everyone else failed at –  _ keeping Cas' demons at bay. _ It feels good to be so close to Dean and even better to kiss the green-eyed boy. Cas has feelings for Dean and Dean is clearly reciprocating. So, how selfish is it of Cas to allow this to happen, when this is what Dean wants?

 

“It's okay,” Cas says and he has to give himself a push, so he leans forward. He captures Dean's lips with his own, threading his fingers through Dean's brown hair once again. Surprised, Dean gasps a little, but starts kissing Cas back eagerly after two seconds, sighing happily. Cas has closed his eyes, actually enjoying the drag of Dean's lips against his own. He can't think of anything he'd rather do right now. 

 

“ _Woah,”_ Dean breathes out, when Cas pulls away again. Dean's cheeks are flushed and there's an idly smile on his lip. Cas swallows, slowly returning Dean's smile. 

 

He doesn't know for how much longer they would have stayed in the car, if Lucifer didn't already come home. Cas sees his brother's car first, and Dean turns around and sees it as well. “I should get home. Sammy's probably already waiting.”

 

Cas nods. “Okay. Then, bye.”

 

He kind of wants to ask when they'll see each other again, but he doesn't. Just as he gets out of the car, Lucifer parks next to the Impala. Dean waves Cas goodbye and drives off. Cas looks after him, waiting for Lucifer to get out of his car.

 

“Wasn't that Dean?” his brother asks, opening the front door. 

 

“Yeah, he drove me home.”

 

They enter the house and Lucifer raises his eyebrows at him. “Drove you home, huh?” he asks, seeming unsure if he should start grinning, or not. Cas huffs a breath, rolling his eyes halfheartedly and going upstairs.

 

There's a flutter inside of him, starting from his chest through his whole body. It's a little unnerving, and he knows it has to do with Dean, because his anxiety caused by his upcoming birthday feels differently. 

 

On Saturday he doesn't hear anything from Dean and he doesn't know if that's a good or a bad thing. But then he wakes up again and it's Sunday, September 1 st – his birthday. He just lies there in bed, staring scowlingly at the ceiling, trying to ignore the fact that it's his birthday. Cas also tries not to think about what happened on his 14 th birthday five years ago. 

 

Lucifer knocks on his door, opening it slowly. “Morning.”

 

“Morning,” Cas mutters, looking at his big brother. 

 

“Do you want to have breakfast?” Lucifer asks carefully, purposefully not mentioning that it's Castiel's birthday. Cas shakes his head. “I'm not hungry.”

 

Lucifer bites his lip, nodding. “Just say, if you changed your mind.”

 

“Yeah, sure,” Cas says and Lucifer leaves, quietly closing the door behind him.

 

Cas tugs his blanket tighter around his body. Maybe he can go back to sleep and just sleep this day away. That'd be great. He's already half asleep again, when the bell rings. He hears Lucifer answering the door and distantly wonders who's there.

 

Then, there's another knock on his bedroom door. Cas wrinkles his forehead, turning towards the door, but still staying in bed. “Yeah?” he asks and Lucifer comes in again, looking at his little brother questioningly.

 

“What's wrong?” Cas asks, confused, staring just as questioningly back at Lucifer. Suddenly, he's afraid that his friends are there and want to celebrate his birthday with him. But thankfully, that's not the case. 

 

“Um, Dean is there and he wants to see you.”

 

“What?” Cas' heart drops, and he starts wondering if that's even worse than if his friends were there. What the fuck is Dean doing here, today of all things? He does know that Cas doesn't celebrate his birthday. 

 

Cas sits up, biting his lip. He does want to see the green-eyed boy, though. He fiddles with the hem of his blanket. “He can come in,” he decides, abandoning himself to an impulse. Lucifer seems surprised, but he doesn't say anything about it. “Okay. I'll send him upstairs.”

 

30 seconds later Dean is standing in the doorway, looking as beautiful as ever. Cas realizes he's sitting cross-legged in his bed, blanket covering his legs and his hair is probably a complete mess. Thank god, he's wearing a long-sleeved shirt. But hell, he doesn't even know what time it is. 

 

“Morning,” Dean says, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he closes the door behind him. 

 

“Morning,” Cas says, shifting a bit when he notices how Dean is looking at him, taking everything in. All of a sudden, Cas feels uncomfortable, because he's realizing how terribly ordinary he is, especially compared to Dean. He has no idea what this beautiful boy is seeing in him, but – incredible as it sounds – the smile on his face is telling Cas that Dean likes what he's seeing.

 

“Did I wake you?” Dean asks and Cas shakes his head. “Not really.”

 

He glances at the alarm clock on his nightstand; it's 9:34 am. He looks back at Dean, who's standing a little awkwardly in the middle of the room now. Castiel plucks up courage and reaches out his hand. “Come here.”

 

Dean starts to smile even wider and walks over, sitting down on Cas' bed and taking his hand. “I should've asked, if it's okay when I come over.”

 

“No, it's fine. I'm just a little surprised. I mean, what are you doing here?”

 

Dean runs his fingers through his hair. “Well, I wanted to take you out. Nothing big, just to Pamela's diner, if that's okay.”

 

Cas blinks at him for a moment. “Why?” he asks stupidly. 

 

Dean shrugs his shoulders. “I just want to. It's not to celebrate, you know,” he adds quickly, and then Cas understands. “Wait a second,” he says, letting go of Dean's hand and staring at him with wide eyes.

 

“You mean a...  _ a date _ ?” Cas himself can hear the panic in his voice and Dean realizes his mistake immediately. “No,” he says hastily. “I mean yes, technically, but we don't have to. I just... that was just a thought, just an idea. I'm sorry, I didn't think it through. We can just go as friends.”

 

Dean looks at him apologetically, biting his lip, and he stops rambling. All the courage Cas has used to overcome his fears, his shadows, in the last days seems to be gone. Maybe he has burned all his courage up – is that possible? Suddenly, he's feeling hollow. 

 

“Dean, please don't apologize,” he says quietly, looking at his hands. “It's...,” he searches for the right word, “sweet, I guess, that you want to go on a date with me. But I can't... I... that would put a label on us, and that's something... I'm not ready to do. It's not that I don't want to go on a date with you. I just can't do this. Because it would  _ mean _ something...” Cas realizes he's the one who's rambling now, and then there's a finger on his lips.

 

“Cas, stop,” Dean says softly. “It's fine. We don't have to put a label on us. If you don't want to, or if you aren't able to, then we won't do it. It's that simple and not a problem. I told you, I'm not going to leave. Just always be honest with me, like that. Okay?” He takes Castiel's hand again, and Cas swallows, nodding insecurely. 

 

How can this be really enough for the green-eyed boy?

 

Dean presses a kiss to the palm of Cas' hand. “We're going your pace, okay?”

 

Cas just stares at him in disbelief, and then he nods – much to his own surprise. Maybe this is really selfish, but after all, Dean is the one who's initiating all this. Dean bites his lip now, briefly glancing at Castiel's lips, but he doesn't kiss him. Instead, he starts smirking at him and then he runs his fingers through Cas' hair, huffing a laugh. “You should get dressed and try to get rid of this bed hair. I mean, it's cute and it looks good, but people might talk.”

 

Castiel feels his cheeks turning red and he slaps Dean's hand away. “Out,” he grumbles, pointing at the door, but he can't help it, he starts grinning.  _ God, what is this boy doing to him? _

 

Dean laughs and leaves the room. Cas runs his own fingers through his hair and gets up slowly. Almost absentmindedly, he gets dressed – dark jeans and a blue sweatshirt – and goes downstairs.

 

Lucifer is standing in the hallway. “Dean's still there. He's waiting in his car.”

 

“I know,” Cas says, putting on a pair of white shoes. “We'll drive to Pamela's diner and have breakfast. I don't know when I'll be back.” He grabs his trenchcoat and his wallet.

 

There's worry in Lucifer's eyes, though he's trying not to show it. “I thought you aren't hungry.”

 

Cas shrugs, fiddling with his phone. “I've changed my mind.”

 

He understands his brother and he's worried himself. He knows how dangerous this could be for him, especially if Dean left suddenly. But he said he wouldn't do that, and Cas knows he has to take this risk, otherwise this isn't going to work. 

 

“See you later,” he says and leaves the house. 

 

“Bye,” Lucifer says, following him to the door. “Take care of yourself.”

 

“Sure,” Cas says, giving his brother a smile, walking over to the Impala and getting into it. Dean is smiling at him and he sets off as soon as Cas closed the passenger door. Ten minutes later, they park in front of the diner and get out of the car.

 

The air is mild, but still warm. Summer isn't ready yet to make room for the fall. But Cas will be glad when the temperatures are finally going to drop and it's normal to wear a pullover. 

 

They enter the diner. “Cas!” Pamela exclaims, looking from him to Dean with raised eyebrows. “Didn't expect to see you today.”

 

“We wanted to have breakfast,” Cas says, smiling at her, and she nods, showing them a free table by the window, where they can sit. Castiel has the feeling there's something Pamela knows and he doesn't, but he isn't sure. He looks at Dean, when Pamela goes over to other customers, to find the green-eyed boy already staring at him, a fond expression on his face.

 

“What?” Cas asks.

 

“Nothing. I just thought that I'm really glad you're here with me. You could've said no,” Dean admits. Cas bites his lip. “But remember, this isn't a date,” he says as quietly as possible, staring at the table surface and flicking at some crumbs. 

 

“I know,” Dean replies. “But hey.” 

 

Cas looks up and Dean continues talking. “I thought that we could say this is our first  _ unofficial _ date. And when you're ready for actual dating, then we'll have our first  _ official  _ date.” Dean leans forward, resting his elbows on the table.

 

Castiel looks at him with wide eyes, and yeah, there are his demons again, dragging all his fears and his worries behind them. “What if I'm never ready?”

 

Dean wrinkles his forehead. “Do you really believe that?”

 

“I don't know,” Cas mutters. “I just want you to be really clear on what you're about to get yourself into. I'm a mess.”

 

“Just so you know, I'm already into you,” Dean says. “And you're  _ a work in progress _ , Cas. I am, too. And that's completely fine.”

 

Cas knows there's no point in arguing with Dean about this. So, he just shakes his head and looks out of the window. Again, he realizes that this isn't going to work, if he doesn't take the risk. He looks at Dean who's studying the menu now, and he knows that he has to tell Dean everything eventually. And then it's up to Dean to decide if he still wants to stay with Castiel.

 

That Dean's going to leave is always a possibility from now on. Cas trusts Dean, but right now he's the only one who completely knows how truly fucked up he is. So of course, he thinks that Dean is going to leave when he knows everything. 

 

Cas knows that it will cost him a lot of strength to tell Dean everything– maybe even more than he has. But the green-eyed boy deserves to know. And if he still wants Castiel when he knows everything – even though that'd be a miracle, but still –, then Cas would be the luckiest guy in the world. 

 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like the new chapter and as always, I'm looking forward to your comments. Thanks to all of you guys for reading my story <3 
> 
> ~ KC

Cas briefly smiles at Pamela, when they walk past each other. She winks at him, but the stress is causing a wrinkle between her eyebrows. It's lunchtime, what means it's very busy at the diner right now, and Castiel is trying to stay as calm as possible. Though, they're only three – Pamela, Cas and the new girl, who looks like she's going to faint at any moment. All tables are occupied and all customers either want to order, to pay or to complain. 

 

At the very same time, during the whole hustle and bustle, Charlie, Dorothy, Gabriel and Meg enter the diner. Luckily, they're able to just find a free table, and Meg waves to Cas. He waves back at her, taking another order from an elderly woman, and quickly walks over to their table. “Hey, guys.”

 

“Hey, Cas,” Charlie says. “How's it going?”

 

“Good. There's just a lot going on. What can I get you?”

 

They all just want a hot chocolate – Gabriel with extra cream – and when Cas brings the cups to their table, Meg asks him if they could come home with him after his shift. “Sure,” Cas says, looking at his friends a little bit surprised. Gabriel starts to grin and Charlie nudges him with her elbow.  _ “Poker face,” _ she hisses.

 

“Ouch!” he complains. Meg rolls her eyes.

 

“Alright,” Cas says, looking at his friends in turns, but he doesn't have the time to ask any questions. He wonders what they are up to. He's afraid they want to do something, because of his birthday that's a week ago by now. Somehow, he can understand that they want to celebrate with him, but they really can't rejoice him by doing that. And actually, he's told them that often enough. But if this is not about his birthday, what is it all about then?

 

Fortunately, he also has a lot to do for the rest of his shift, and he isn't able to keep pondering over it. But 28 minutes later his shift is over and Pamela takes the time to give him a hug. He hugs her back and then she looks at him for a moment. “How's Dean?” she asks suddenly, and Cas automatically thinks about yesterday, when Dean and he were at the park together – they held hands and kissed again.

 

“He's fine, I guess.”

 

Pamela smiles at him. “He's a great boy.”

 

Cas chuckles sheepishly, running his fingers through his hair and messing it up a little bit more. He just nods, returning her smile. He leaves the diner together with his friends and they all wave Pamela goodbye before they squash into Charlie's small car and drive to Castiel's home. During the drive, he already tries to get something out of his friends, but everyone remains quiet and Gabriel puts on a grim face – his poker face, or so he claims.

 

Cas is nervous when Charlie is parking next to Lucifer's car. They get out of her car and enter the house. As always, Lucifer doesn't mind when Castiel's friends come over, and now he's just glad that they have enough food in the house, especially since Gabriel eats for two. 

 

At first, they talk about work and college, and also watch a movie –  _ Warm Bodies _ . Cas is the one who asks what's up with Charlie and movies about zombies, because it was Charlie who suggested it. Though, he has to admit that the movie is actually really good and funny. 

 

But when the credits are rolling, Dorothy turns off the TV and they all put on 'serious' faces. Gabriel has to bite his lip to suppress another grin. Cas looks at them one by one, with raised eyebrows. Lucifer comes into the room as well, but he keeps to the sidelines, leaning against the door frame, arms crossed in front of his chest.

 

“Okay. What's going on?” Cas asks, huffing a breath. 

 

“Well,” Charlie starts. “The others kinda did this, when Dorothy and I became a thing, so now we're doing this for you.” 

 

“What are you talking about?” Cas asks, although he thinks he already knows what this is all about.

 

“You and Dean-o,” Gabriel says, wiggling his eyebrows.

 

Cas rolls his eyes. “Dean and I aren't together.” 

 

“But you are well on the way to being together,” Meg states and the others nod. Cas locks eyes with his brother. “We just want you to be okay, Cas,” Lucifer says. “We don't want you to get hurt.”

 

Castiel nods slowly. “Thanks, guys. That's... very sweet of you, but it's really not necessary.”

 

Charlie squints at him, and he can see that she's thinking about something. Then, she claps her hands once and gets up. Everyone looks at her and she smiles. “Change of plan,” she announces and all the others are just as confused as Castiel.

 

“Cas, follow me,” Charlie says and gets ready to leave the living room. 

 

“Wait, what are you doing?” Dorothy asks, holding her hand out to hold her girlfriend back. Charlie turns around again. “Going to Castiel's room, together with him, so we can have a one-to-one,” she explains. Cas grimaces, but everyone else seems to understand something.

 

“Good idea,” Meg says, nodding approvingly and sipping on her coke. “Hurry up, Clarence.” she adds, directing towards Cas. He sighs, but understands that he doesn't have a choice. Therefore, he just gets up and follows Charlie upstairs and into his bedroom. They sit down on his bed and Cas looks at her expectantly. 

 

“A one-to-one? Really?” he huffs, running his fingers through his dark hair.

 

“Yeah. I realized that we've caught you off-guard a little, so I thought this would be easier for you.”

 

“Thank you, Charlie. I appreciate it, I really do, but there's nothing to talk about.”

 

“Dean told me you're holding hands, that's not nothing,” she scolds him. “That means something, Cas.”

 

“But we're not together,” Cas repeats stubbornly. Charlie shrugs her shoulders once. “Not yet.”

 

He chuckles, looking away.

 

“Have you kissed?” she asks suddenly, and Cas can't do anything about it – he starts blushing.

 

“ _Oh my god,”_ Charlie squeals, throwing her arms around him. Confused and taken by surprise, Cas just hugs her back. “That's amazing,” she says, when she lets him go. “You're so cute together.”

 

“We're not together,” Cas repeats weakly, and a knowing smile lights up Charlie's face. “But you like him, right?”

 

Cas shrugs, rubbing his neck. “Yes, I do.”

 

Charlie looks so fucking excited and Cas starts to smile at her. “You're an awesome best friend, do you know that?”

 

She flashes him a grin. “Of course, I am and of course, I know that.”

 

Cas huffs a laugh, shaking his head.

 

“But you're taking care of yourself, yeah?” she asks, all of a sudden serious again. Cas nods. “Yeah, of course.”

 

“Good,” Charlie says softly. “Because we love you, Castiel.”

 

Cas tilts his head, looking at her, and then he hugs her. “Love you, too.”

 

The next day Cas tells Dean about the  _ gayvention _ . Dean laughs about it, taking Cas' hand. They're at the park, sitting on the swings. It's not really cold, that's why Cas is only wearing a thin grey sweater under his trenchcoat and ripped blue jeans. Dean is even just wearing a dark blue t-shirt under his leather jacket, but he's beautiful as ever.

 

“You have amazing friends. They really care about you.”

 

“I know. I still felt a little awkward,” Cas admits. 

 

“I can imagine,” Dean answers, chuckling softly.

 

“So, what did you wanted to tell me?” Cas asks, remembering the beginning of their conversation, when they both said they had something to tell. 

 

Dean looks down and shuffles his feet. “I know that we're not a couple, but I'd still like to tell Sammy about us. You know, to come out to him.” He still doesn't look at Castiel, who squeezes his hand now. 

 

“That's fantastic, Dean,” he says softly, and the green-eyed boy looks up. “Really? You wouldn't be mad?”

 

“Of course, not. First, you asked me before doing it, and that's greatly appreciated.”

 

Dean chuckles, shaking his head slightly.

 

“And second,” Cas continues, “I'm proud of you. Coming out can be a really difficult thing to do.”

 

Dean looks around and Cas follows his gaze, but there's no one else around. The green-eyed boy gets up and stands in front of Cas, putting his hand on Cas' cheek and leaning down. Cas clings round Dean's wrist as they kiss, and something warm is blooming inside of his chest, right where his heart is beating at least twice as fast as usual. He smiles into the kiss. Cas is a little overwhelmed by the affection that's causing Dean's eyes to glisten brightly, when they end the kiss and look at each other. 

 

“Thank you,” Dean says, smiling fondly at him. Cas shakes his head. “You don't have to thank me. I didn't do anything.”

 

“That's what you say.”

 

Cas chuckles and just presses a kiss to the palm of Dean's hand, instead of saying something. There's a grey blanket of clouds above them, but it cannot dampen Cas' mood. Not even, when it's slowly starting to rain. They agree on going home and Cas walks Dean home, since Dean's house is nearer to the park than Castiel's.

 

“Will you tell me how it went?” Cas asks, when they turn the corner. 

 

“Yeah, definitely,” Dean promises. He bites his lip. “I'm nervous,” he admits quietly.

 

“That's normal,” Cas says reassuringly. 

 

“Sure, but that's the reason why I don't know yet when I'm going to tell Sam.”

 

“Take as much time as you need. But I can already tell you that I think Sam will be fine with it.”

 

“I hope so,” Dean says, shrugging. Cas nudges him gently. “He  _ loves _ you. You're his big brother. Every little sibling looks up to their big brother.”

 

Dean is silent for a moment and they reach his house. They stand still. “I'm just afraid that it's going to change the way he looks at me.”

 

“I understand that,” Cas says, nodding.  _ If anyone understands that, then it's me _ , he thinks bitterly. Carefully, he wraps his arms around Dean, who hugs him back immediately. Cas bites his lip. “I'm here for you,” he says quietly, and the green-eyed boy hugs him more tightly, pressing a kiss to the side of Cas' neck, whose skin starts to tingle at the exact spot. He huffs a breath, letting go of Dean.

 

He sees it in Dean's eyes right away. The green-eyed boy wants to apologize for the kiss. “Don't,” Cas whispers. “It's fine.”

 

“Really? Because I didn't think about it, I just did it and...,” Dean says quietly, but Cas interrupts him. “Really, Dean. Everything's fine.”

 

And Cas means it. He's trying to let Dean in, more and more, and simultaneously to push his demons away, more and more. It's not easy, but he's trying his best and that's all that matters, right?

 

Dean nods, relieved, and smiles. “Okay. See you then.”

 

Cas returns his smile, stepping back. “See you then.”

 

He walks home, smiling to himself. Somehow, he's excited, because Dean is going to come out to his little brother. It's a great thing and also a great step, and Cas feels  _ touched _ , because Dean wants to tell Sam about him – about  _ them _ . That's definitely a big step, even though they aren't actually together.

 

Cas reaches his house, noticing that his brother's car isn't there, so Lucifer isn't home, and he fishes his keys out of his pocket. Just as he opens the door, a familiar voice is calling his name. Surprised, Cas turns around and sees Garth walking towards him – who's definitely the last person he'd expected to see right now.

 

“Hey, what are you doing here?” Cas asks, totally taken aback, but he hugs Garth tightly. 

 

“I'm back,” Garth announces superfluously. “I missed my mom and you guys,” he adds, and Cas smiles. “We missed you, too. Come on in.”

 

They enter the house and go into the kitchen. Castiel gets two cans of coke out of the fridge, giving one of them to Garth, and they sit down at the kitchen table. “Good to see you, man,” Garth says, taking the can of coke from Cas, who smiles. “You too. How are you? How was the road trip?”

 

“Awesome. Absolutely awesome. Best decision of my life.” Garth is grinning and then he tells Cas all about New York and his short time with Crowley. Crowley's apartment is small, but modern and also comfortable. Cas nods at that – Crowley has sent him pictures of his apartment. Garth says the Brit was a good host and he also met some of Crowley's _ new acquaintances _ . Cas grins, shaking his head. Of course, Crowley found his people in New York, but nevertheless, he knows the Brit is going to make it far, just because he's Crowley.

 

At some point, Cas wonders if the others already know that Garth is back. Upset, Garth facepalms. He shakes his head, telling Cas that he came right here after he said hello to his mom. “But let's call them now.”

 

They both grab their phones and shortly afterwards, the bell is ringing. Gabriel is the first to arrive, happy about the distraction from learning. Kevin and Meg arrive at the same time and Benny, Charlie, Dorothy and Gadreel met on the way to Castiel's house and arrive together a few minutes later. 

 

Lucifer comes home an hour later to find the house full of people. A little confused, he enters the living room where they spread themselves out. “What's going on?” he asks, still holding two shopping bags in his hands.

 

“Garth is back!” they all yell simultaneously and enthusiastically, and laugh. In a way, Garth is the man of the moment and though, he seems a little uncomfortable with this new role of his, he willingly tells them everything about his road trip. And Lucifer gets rid of the beer he has bought. 

 

The spontaneous party ends with them ordering pizzas, and since most of them have to work the next day, Lucifer takes the part of the adult and sends everybody home after they've eaten. Garth thanks and hugs them all. 

 

Before Cas goes to sleep – he has an early shift at Pamela's diner tomorrow – he quickly helps his brother to clean everything up. But there's no huge messiness, and then Lucifer sends him to bed as well. When Cas is lying in his bed, he grabs his phone and calls Dean.

 

“Hey,” the green-eyed boy answers the call. 

 

“Hey,” Cas replies softly.

 

“Is something wrong?”

 

“No, I just wanted to say good night. And to hear your voice.” It's still hard for Castiel to say something like that, but he knows it's worth it, since he can hear Dean's smile in his voice, when he speaks again. “Then, sleep well, Cas. Good night.”

 

“You too. Good night, Dean.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Just two days ago Dean has told Cas that he wants to come out to Sammy, and so far, he hasn't been able to gather up enough courage to do so. Cas has told him to take his time, but actually he just doesn't have the guts to do it. What if Sam is going to think differently about him then?

 

Dean's sitting on a chair behind the counter in Missouri's shop, lost in thought. Cas has a short late shift that's almost over. The blue-eyed boy is smiling at him. “Everything's okay?”

 

Dean nods hesitantly and Cas sits down next to him. “Have you talked to Sam?”

 

“No, no yet,” Dean answers, a little glumly. But he doesn't want to burden Cas with this, therefore he changes topic. “Have you seen Alastair again?”

 

Castiel accepts the new topic immediately, without saying something about it, and shakes his head. “No, not lately. He disappeared again, apparently.” Cas shrugs his shoulders. “I don't know if that's a good thing, or not. I mean, I'm glad when I don't see Alastair, but I do wonder what he's up to.”

 

Dean totally understands that. He huffs a small, humorless laugh. “He's a freak, so probably not something nice, I guess. I bet he already has one hell of a criminal record.”

 

He looks at Cas, who's not laughing at his joke at all. Instead, he returns his look with wide eyes. Cas looks like he's not sure if he should tell him whatever it is that's suddenly on his mind. He's biting his lip hard, and Dean lifts his hand, gently pulling Cas' lip from his teeth, and Cas lets him do that. “What's wrong?” Dean asks.

 

“I have a criminal record,” Cas blurts out. Surprised, Dean looks at him. “You have a criminal record?”

 

Cas nods, biting his lip again. “Yeah,” he admits. 

 

But before Dean is able to ask some questions, Missouri comes over to them, reminding Castiel that his shift is over. They leave the shop, practically running to the Impala, since it's raining. When they're sitting, Dean doesn't start the engine and sets off right away. He faces Cas, who returns his look only hesitantly. “I'm sorry I haven't told you earlier.”

 

“Don't apologize, Cas. You don't have to. I won't throw bricks, when I live in a glass house.”

 

Cas looks at him questioningly, and Dean nods. “Yep. I have a criminal record as well.”

 

“What did you do?” Cas asks, and he seems weirdly relieved.

 

“I broke into a supermarket to steal some stuff. Mostly food.” Dean shrugs.

 

“Why did you do that?” Cas asks. “If you don't mind me asking.”

 

Dean takes Cas' hand, slowly intertwining their fingers. “I don't mind. I did it for Sam. It happened at a time, when our dad disappeared again and again, often for days. We needed food and didn't have any money, so I stole something. But I got caught. I was at a facility for juvenile offenders for two months. I was 15.”

 

Cas nods understandingly, and Dean instantly knows that the blue-eyed boy doesn't judge him. “What about you?” he asks. Cas looks at their interlaced fingers. “I have a criminal record of assault.” He shrugs his shoulders halfheartedly, looking out of the window.

 

“What happened? If you don't mind me asking,” Dean says softly. A smile touches the corners of Cas' mouth at that. “I don't mind. Well, I actually just got into a lot of fights, especially in the time right after we've moved here.”

 

“When was that?”

 

“Um, a few weeks after... after I've tried to kill myself,” Cas answers quietly. “For that – I mean, for moving away,  _ because _ of me – my father hated me even more, although he rarely spent time at home.” He wrinkles his forehead, and Dean carefully runs his fingers through Cas' dark hair. He wants to ask why they had to move away because of Cas, but he figures that would lead them directly to continuing the conversation they had in the forest, and he wants to wait a little longer until they're doing that. So, he asks another question. “Why did you get into a lot of fights?”

 

He hopes this question only broaches the subject ever so slightly. And since Castiel actually answers him, he assumes it's okay.

 

“It was just easier then, somehow. This was the way I dealt with my pain. I just picked someone – sometimes people who didn't even do something – and beat the shit out of them. I didn't have to think while doing so. I just projected all of my problems onto other people. And this way, I got my reputation as a bad boy.”

 

“Someone called you a faggot and you broke his nose,” Dean says, remembering something Sam has told him. 

 

“You've heard about that? Yeah, it's true. At some point though, I started to pick only people who  _ deserved _ it. You know, like Alastair and 'his friends'. But all in all, I was a pretty terrible person.”

 

“ _Was,”_ Dean emphasizes, pressing a kiss to Cas' hand, but the blue-eyed boy scoffs. “I've just realized that it's also satisfying to help other people, but I still got into fights. Do you remember Jody?”

 

“Who?” Dean asks, a little confused. 

 

“Sheriff Jody Mills. You've met her at the bar, where Balthazar is working.”

 

Dean furrows his brow and it takes him a few moments, but then he remembers her. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I remember her. What about her?” 

 

“She had to arrest me a couple of times. But I think she felt pity for me, because she tried to help me. A few months before you moved her, I've had to promise her to try staying out of trouble.”

 

“She always arrested you, because of assault, or...?” Dean wonders, and Castiel shakes his head. “No, I've got drunk pretty often, and also in public. Lucifer hated that, but he hated especially when I was high.”

 

Dean's eyebrows shoot towards the ceiling in surprise. “What did you take?”

 

“A lot,” Cas says. “Crowley used to get me anything I wanted. Though, I haven't taken anything in months, and I'm sure Lucifer is glad about that.”

 

“I've smoked weed a couple of times,” Dean admits. Cas chuckles slightly. 

 

“What?” Dean asks. 

 

“We're really messed up, aren't we? I mean, what are we talking about?”

 

Dean starts to giggle, reclining his head, and then he kisses Castiel. Because that's just his favorite thing at the moment, and he doesn't think that's ever going to change. Kissing Cas and Cas kissing him back – yeah, that's definitely his favorite thing in the whole world. He'd love nothing better than to do this all the time, since to kiss the blue-eyed boy is so fucking addicting. 

 

“This is better than any drug, though,” Dean whispers against Cas' lips and kisses him again. Cas pulls away, smirking. “Sometimes, you're really cheesy.”

 

“Oh, shut up,” Dean scoffs, pulling Cas closer again, and continues to kiss him. Cas sighs into the kiss, chuckling lightly before kissing Dean back again. 

 

Today, the ocean is bright and endless, sparkling as if there are stars hidden right beneath the surface. Dean knows he'll never get enough of these blue eyes. He swallows, a little overwhelmed by all the affection he's feeling for Cas, when he drives him home.

 

It feels good to see Cas talking relatively freely, and just being open to and honest with Dean. Small steps – that's the important thing, and that's also the reason why he wants to wait a little longer until they continue their conversation from the forest.

 

The next thing that's waiting to be dealt with is Dean's coming out to his little brother. How hard can this really be? He just has to do this; after all Sammy kind of deserves to know and Dean also just wants to be through with it. But still, he is super nervous. 

 

It takes him another day to gather up enough courage to start a conversation with Sam with the intention to come out to his brother. They're in the kitchen – John isn't home – and Sam is doing his homework like the good 'little' A-student that he is. Dean is leaning against the counter, looking out of the window and tapping his fingers on the kitchen countertop. He bites his lip and sighs internally. “Hey, Sammy?”

 

Sam looks up and at him questioningly. It's pretty obvious that Dean's nervous. Slowly, he sits down across from Sam at the kitchen table, running his fingers through his hair.

 

“What's wrong?” Sam asks.

 

“I have to tell you something,” Dean says, returning Sam's look only hesitantly. 

 

“Okay,” Sam says, putting his pen down and eyeing him. Dean doesn't know where to start and he chews on the inside of his cheek, thinking about what to say. “Well, remember? I told you that I like someone?”

 

“Yeah, I remember that,” Sam says and then he starts to grin. “Why? Is it finally official?”

 

Dean huffs a small laugh. “No, not really, but...” Fucking hell, how is he supposed to say it?

 

“Have you kissed him?” Sam asks suddenly. “Or has he kissed you?”

 

“Well...,” Dean says, a small smile playing on his lips, but then he realizes what his little brother just said. He looks at Sam with wide eyes. “What?”

 

“Have you kissed?” Sam asks again, but Dean just blinks at him, slightly shaking his head. “You... you said...  _ he _ ?” he wonders stupidly. “Who are you talking about?”

 

“Castiel?” Sam asks, seeming confused all of a sudden.

 

For a moment they're just staring at each other, and Dean is totally taken aback. “You know?” he stutters eventually, not knowing what to think.

 

Sam nods. “Yeah.”

 

“How? Since when?” Dean doesn't know what's going on.

 

“Since we went to the park with Castiel, I think,” Sam answers. “It just made sense.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Why you didn't tell me who's your crush.”

 

There's a moment of silence and Dean has to take this in first. “Why didn't you tell me that you know?”

 

Sam shrugs. “I wanted to give you the opportunity to tell me yourself, when you want to.”

 

Dean doesn't know what to say. This isn't how he expected this conversation to go. “But... but  _ how _ do you know?” he asks, still amazed.

 

“I have eyes, Dean, you know? I saw how you looked at him.”

 

Dean stares at the table surface, wrinkling his forehead and starting to chew on the inside of his cheek again. “And,” he starts, taking a deep breath, “and you don't... mind?”

 

“You mean, that you like a boy?”

 

Dean just nods.

 

“Why should I mind?”

 

“So, you don't?” 

 

“No, of course not. Did you think I would?”

 

Dean shrugs his shoulders awkwardly. “Maybe, I guess.”

 

“He makes you happy, right?”

 

“Yes,” Dean says quietly. Sam smiles at him. “That's all that matters, Dean.”

 

“It doesn't change anything?” Dean asks, still having an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

 

“You're my big brother, Dean. You're my hero. I'm looking up to you.  _ Nothing _ is ever going to change that.”

 

Dean is infinitely relieved. He exhales; he didn't even realize he was holding his breath.

 

“But you aren't gay, right?” Sam asks and Dean huffs a laugh. “No. I'm bisexual.”

 

He never thought that it would feel so fucking good to finally say this to his little brother. 

 

Sam nods. “Cool,” he says, grinning again, and Dean chuckles. Oh fucking shit, Sammy  _ accepts _ him. Nothing has changed between them. He sighs and looks at his brother, who's biting his lip now. “Are you going to tell dad?”

 

“Hell, no,” Dean says, grimacing. Sam nods understandingly, and then his face lights up again. “Hey, now we can talk about it.”

 

“Talk about what?” Dean asks, a bit confused.

 

“Your relationship with Cas.”

 

Dean rolls his eyes, getting up. “We aren't together.”

 

“But you've kissed and you like him, and apparently, he likes you back.”

 

“This is all true. But Cas isn't... ready for an actual relationship.” Dean shrugs his shoulders, and Sam props one elbow onto the table, resting his chin on the palm of his hand. “You said when someone's special, it's okay to take things slow.”

 

Dean nods, leaning against the kitchen counter again, wondering what's Sammy's point.

 

“How special is Castiel?” Sam asks, smirking at him. Dean scoffs, shaking his head and biting his lip slightly. “Very,” he replies simply.

 

“Do you love him?”

 

That is something Dean has tried avoiding to think about so far, if he's honest. He bites his lip a little harder. “The whole thing is a bit... complicated, Sammy,” he says quietly. “I have feelings for Cas, and I think that I do love him, but it's so much more than that, and for us both it'd be...  _ overwhelming _ to say the least to already talk about something like that.”

 

Sam looks at him with wide eyes, and Dean feels a little awkward. He scratches his neck and gets a beer out of the fridge, not looking at his little brother until Sam starts to speak again. “What do you mean by  _ but it's so much more than that _ ?”

 

“I don't know,” Dean says evasively, and Sam raises one eyebrow at him, looking at him expectantly. Dean huffs a breath. “Man, don't do that. It'll probably sound even more stupid when I say it out loud, than it already does in my head.”

 

Sam starts to grin widely. “Is it something really cheesy and sappy?”

 

Dean starts to grin at that as well, and he nods. “Yeah.”

 

“Tell me. I won't judge you, I promise.” Puppy-eyed, Sam looks at him. Dean returns his little brother's look, who reacted so positively to his coming out, and he decides to tell him. “You know, when I look at Castiel, I see...” He clears his throat, staring at his hands.

 

“You see what?” Sam asks carefully.

 

“I see the rest of my life.”

 

Dean swallows, grabbing the beer bottle that he put on the counter, so his hands have something to do. 

 

“That's...” Sam starts, thinking of what to say for a moment. Dean looks back up again.

 

“That's really cheesy and sappy.”

 

Dean snorts, taking a swig of his beer. “I told you it's stupid.”

 

“No, it's not stupid,” Sam says seriously, shaking his head and getting up. He starts to pack up his stuff. 

 

“We're still teenagers, Sam,” Dean states, and his little brother just shrugs. “What are you doing?”

 

“Oh, I'm meeting Kevin at the park in 15 minutes. Didn't I tell you?”

 

Dean shakes his head, trying to remember if Sam told him, or not. But no, Sam didn't say anything about it until now. 

 

“Sorry, I forgot, then,” Sam says. 

 

“It's alright,” Dean replies. “Just don't be home too late.”

 

“Are you going to meet Cas?” Sam asks, slowly walking around the kitchen table. Dean squints at him. “Don't know yet.”

 

Sam nods, he is about to go upstairs, but then he turns around again. Dean looks at him questioningly.

 

“Oh yeah, Dean. Your argument  _ you're still teenagers _ is invalid. You should consider yourself lucky.” Sam smiles softly at him and Dean's eyebrows shoot towards the ceiling in surprise, but he doesn't know what to say to that. Sam goes to his rooms and a few minutes later, he leaves to meet up with Kevin.

 

It's early afternoon and Dean does think about seeing Cas, but then he remembers that the blue-eyed boy is working at Pamela's diner. So, he texts him instead.  _ I came out to Sammy. _

 

It takes Cas some time to answer.  _ I'm proud of you, Dean. What did he say? _

 

_ He's actually okay with it.  _ Dean smiles at that, still feeling relieved.

 

_ That's great _ , Cas replies.  _ I told you, didn't I! _

 

Dean huffs a laugh, rolling his eyes.  _ Yes, you did. _

 

Three hours later, Sam comes home and he says that Kevin asked him if he'd like to stay over at his place. Of course, Dean doesn't have anything against it. In fact, it's actually very convenient. Dean knows that Cas works late shifts at Missouri's shop the next two days. Tomorrow is Friday and Sam will be at school tomorrow morning and then he'll stay at Kevin's place until Saturday noon – that's what they agreed on. So, Dean is able to meet up with Castiel without having to worry about Sammy.

 

But then once again, things don't go as planned. First, he has to work more, because a colleague is sick, what means he isn't able to meet up with Cas on Friday and also Saturday morning. And after work on Saturday, he picks up Sam from Kevin's house around 3 pm – as newly agreed – and they drive home. 

 

Dean should have expected something bad to happen again, especially after all the good stuff that has happened lately. But he just didn't want to think like that, not when it's going so well with Castiel, and when Sam is feeling okay as well. Dean has just wanted to stay positive. He didn't think about John anymore, because... well, John didn't really think about them either. And their life together worked somehow, apart from a few minor incidents. But nothing much worse has happened, no bad injuries and John also hasn't tried to kick Dean out of the house again. So, all in all, there was some positive stuff as well. 

 

And now –  _ that _ .

 

Dean parks in their driveway and they get out of the car, Sam shouldering his backpack. They enter the house and they both stop dead in the hallway. Furrowing his brow, Dean closes the front door behind them. They glance at each other and Dean swallows, nodding towards the stairs. “Bring your stuff to your room, Sammy, and wait till I come to you.”

 

Sam wants to protest, but Dean shoots him a stern look and then Sam obliges. Dean waits until he hears that Sam's door has been closed, only then he slowly walks down the hallway, past the staircase and towards John's bedroom.

 

John's bedroom door is wide open – Dean can't even remember when he's seen that for the last time. It was probably before his mom's death. Yeah, now that he thinks about it, it was definitely before his mom's death. Ever after she died, they weren't allowed to go into John's room anymore, no matter where they've been, and this door has always been closed. That's just a fact and at some point, Dean stopped questioning it, mostly because he didn't want to get into an 'unnecessary' fight with their dad.

 

And now this open door is causing a tidal wave of presentiments. An open door is supposed to be a positive thing, right? But this scares Dean. What's going on? What is their dad doing?

 

The thing they noticed first, right when they entered the house, were the loud noises that are coming from John's bedroom. He is definitely there. Sheets of paper are rustling, things are falling to the ground or they get thrown against the wall, glass is clanking against glass or some of the furniture (probably some empty bottles that were filled with something alcoholic). 

 

Dean swallows hard as he reaches the door frame. Unsure, he looks around the corner. John's bedroom is a mess, and Dean only realizes now that he hasn't even glanced into their father's room in all these months. Confusion is clouding his mind. 

 

Sheets of paper are literally everywhere – on the floor, the bed, or attached to the wall and even the closet, and its doors are open as well. Cartons are standing around, on the floor and also the bed, and they're filled with even more sheets of paper, and photographs, and folders. A few bottles are laying between them, all empty. And John is standing right in the middle of all this chaos. He's wearing some old sweatpants and a holey t-shirt, his hair is a mess, and his eyes are looking around, confused and hounded at the same time. 

 

Dean's heart is beating way too fast and he just stands there in the doorway, staring at his dad, not knowing what to do. And then, John turns towards the door. He sees Dean and their eyes meet. Suddenly, there's fury in John's eyes.  _ “You,” _ he spits out. “What are you doing here?”

 

Dean blinks at him. “Dad, what is going on? What is all this?” He wants to have a closer look at the papers, but that only leads to John starting to yell at him. “Don't you dare! You have no right – absolutely no right!”

 

Dean flinches, being more confused than ever. What the fuck is going on?

 

“Dean?” Sam calls suddenly from upstairs, probably because he heard John shouting.  _ Dammit. _

 

“Sammy, stay upstairs!” Dean says loudly, not stopping to look at John, who squints at him now. He tries to think of a way to calm John down, but the thing is, Dean can't really tell if his dad is sober or if he's drunk right now. So, he has absolutely no idea what to do. Sure, all the bottles are empty, but they could lay around for a while already.

 

“Dad,” Dean starts again. “What's wrong?”

 

John looks at him, appalled. “What's wrong?” he asks back. “What's wrong? Are you serious?”

 

What the hell is happening? Is John having a mental breakdown? But why the fuck  _ now _ ? To say that Dean is unable to cope with the current situation would be an understatement. And it just gets worse and worse.

 

Still unsure of what to say, Dean just nods.

 

“How about  _ everything _ ?” John shouts, kicking at one of the cartons. Dean swallows, throat rippling, and he's trying to stay calm. John spreads out his arms, pointing around but still looking at his son. “Don't you think something's missing here?  _ Someone _ ?”

 

Dean stares at his father with wide eyes. “Is this about mom?” he asks quietly, looking around again. He gets a glimpse of a scrapped article that's about a fire in a house in Lawrence, Kansas... before John grabs it. He glares at Dean. “You have no right to look at this! I put this all together.”

 

All of a sudden, John seems kind of excited. Still holding the scrapped article in his hand, he walks up to Dean. It's like his anger is blown off for the time being. “I'm so close,” he whispers loudly. 

 

Dean looks at him with furrowed brow. “Close to... what?”

 

“The solution!” John exclaims, staring emphatically at Dean. 

 

“Dad, the solution to –  _ what _ ? What are you talking about?” Dean asks, almost desperately. He just wants to know what's going on.

 

“What killed your mother.”

 

All at once, Dean is feeling dizzy. He rubs his face. “What killed...” he repeats in disbelief. Then, he sighs. “The fire killed mom.” His voice is rough, but quiet. They've only talked about this once and then never again, and back then, it was mostly Dean who was talking to Sammy.

 

“No... I mean, yes, but I'm talking about what  _ caused _ the fire,” John says, shaking the sheet of paper in his hand.

 

“It was an electrical fire. It was an accident,” Dean says tiredly.

 

“No, it wasn't,” John says hastily, completely serious. Dean crosses his arms in front of his chest, biting his lip way too hard, but he can't help it. What the fuck is John talking about? Of course, the fire was an accident. 

 

“Dad, the police and also the fire department said...,” Dean says, but John interrupts him impatiently. “Yeah, I know what they said. I have their reports here, somewhere.” He points at all of the sheets of paper on the bed. “But they're wrong.”

 

Dean really doesn't want to have to ask this question. He licks his lips. “What do you think caused the fire and... and killed mom?”

 

“The fire was not an accident. Believe me, Dean. It was caused by  _ something _ .” John looks around, as if he's searching for something, speaking absentmindedly. 

 

_ Something _ – that word is bothering Dean, or more the way John said it. He leans against the door frame with his left shoulder, arms still crossed in front of his chest, and he wrinkles his brow. “You mean...  _ someone _ , right?” he asks slowly. “ _ Someone _ caused the fire?”

 

But John shakes his head determinedly. “No, Dean. Something caused the fire... something...  _ not natural _ .”

 

Dean swallows, being totally dumbstruck, and opens his mouth, but no word is coming out of it. He still doesn't know what exactly is happening right now. “Something... not... natural,” he repeats carefully and wonderingly, looking at John, who's nodding. “Yes, and I'm closing in on it.”

 

“You're closing in on it.” Dean nods. “Alright. Dad, there are no supernatural things. Whatever you're closing in on, is only a... a hallucinatory fantasy. Mom died in a fire, yes, but it was just an accident.” Dean feels super fucking drained right now, and the whole situation seems so surreal. Is this actually happening right now?

 

Immediately, the fury is back in John's eyes, in the expression on his face, in his whole body language.  _ “A hallucinatory fantasy?” _

 

“Yeah,” Dean says quietly. “Dad, you need help.”

 

“I don't need help!” John yells. “And I definitely don't need  _ your _ help. It doesn't matter whether you believe me, or not. But whose fault is it that she was at home that night?”

 

If John had thrown something at Dean again – even if he had thrown knives at him –, it wouldn't have hurt half as much as his words do. Dean looks bashfully at the ground, biting his lip again. He wishes he'd go numb, but he doesn't, and John just keeps talking.

 

“She wasn't supposed to be there. She was only there, because of you. She died,  _ because of you _ . You were able to get out of the house in time. She wasn't able to. She died and you live. Tell me, Dean, how this can be fair.”

 

“I...” Dean doesn't know what to say.

 

“It's your fault!” John screams, voice cracking. “You're to blame for all of this!”

 

Suddenly, John storms out of the room, past Dean, and five seconds later he slams the front door shut. Dean winces at the loud noise, but he stays put. His mind is blank and there's a ringing in his ears. He's still staring at the floor.

 

There are a few very long moments of silence, and it only gets interrupted by Sam. “Dean?” he asks quietly and Dean looks up, startled. Sam is standing at the foot of the stairs and insecurely returns his look. Dean realizes he has tears in his eyes and he starts wondering how much Sam has heard –  _ probably enough, probably far too much. _ He sighs, rubbing his eyes and walking towards his little brother.

 

“Are you okay?” Sam asks worriedly.

 

Dean clears his throat. “Dad left. I don't know when he'll be back, but we shouldn't stay here, I think.” Dean walks down the hallway, grabbing his jacket and his keys. “I know where we can go.” –  _ where we need to go _ , he thinks.

 

He needs to see Castiel, or he will go crazy. 

 

“Are you okay?” Sam asks again, and Dean ignores the question again. “Let's go. Come on.”

 

He leaves the house and Sam has no other choice than to follow him, eyeing him as they get into the Impala. Sam also glances at him every few seconds during the entire drive, but Dean ignores that as well. He drives to Missouri's shop – Cas has a late shift there. The shop isn't open on Saturday afternoons, but Missouri wanted to apply the decorations for the fall season today, together with Cas.

 

“Where are we?” Sam asks, looking at the shop when Dean parked by the road in front of it. Dean darts a glance at his little brother. “Cas works here.”

 

Understanding flashes over Sam's face and Dean just gets out of the car. 

 

“Wait,” Sam says, hastening to follow Dean. “Can we just barge in?” he asks, closing the passenger door.

 

“I know the owner,” Dean answers. “That's no problem.” 

 

The door is closed and there's also a sign on the door, inside, that says  **closed** . Sam looks at him with raised eyebrows. “We're undeterred by that,” Dean says, winking at Sam. Doughtily, he knocks against the glass panel with his knuckles. Two seconds later Castiel's head appears from behind one of the shelves to see who's there. He wrinkles his forehead, seeming a little confused, but he comes out from behind the shelf. He looks at Dean questioningly, as he opens the door and lets them in. 

 

“Dean. Sam. What are you doing here?” he asks wonderingly, but he's smiling.

 

And god, that smile and those blue eyes are all Dean needed to calm down. Relieved, he looks at Cas and he'd love nothing better right now than to fall round Cas' neck. But Sam is standing right beside them and then, Missouri is also coming over to them. 

 

“Dean, what a pleasant surprise,” she says. “What are you doing here?”

 

Before Dean is able to answer, she spots Sam. “Is that your little brother?”

 

Sam smiles sheepishly at her and Dean nods.” Yep, that's Sammy.”

 

“It's Sam,” Sam corrects him automatically, holding his hand out for Missouri to shake. “Nice to meet you.”

 

“Oh, he has manners. I like him,” she says, shaking Sam's hand. She shoots Dean a long look, scrutinizing him. Then, Missouri turns to Sam. “Would you like to drink a glass of home made lemonade?”

 

Sam nods understandingly right away and follows her into her office, quietly closing the door behind them. Cas looks after them, wrinkling his brow slightly, and then he looks back at Dean. And Dean can't hold back anymore. He flings his arms around Castiel's neck and just hugs him as tightly as possible. Cas hugs him back immediately. “What happened?” he asks quietly, but Dean just shakes his head, burying his face in the crook of Cas' neck. Somehow, the blue-eyed boy smells as if it had just rained and usually, Dean doesn't like rain but now he indulges in it, because this is  _ Castiel _ .

 

Cas rakes his fingers through Dean's hair, who sighs. He can't believe how easy it is for the blue-eyed boy to calm him down. He presses a kiss to the side of Cas' neck, and Cas kisses his cheek. Dean smiles. 

 

“Thank you,” he whispers, slowly letting go of Castiel, so he can look him in the eye, but not stepping back. Therefore, they're still standing very close to each other. Cas puts his hand on Dean's cheek, and he leans into the touch. 

 

“For what?” Cas asks, smiling softly at him. 

 

Dean shrugs. “Just... for being you.”

 

Cas huffs a small laugh, shaking his head slightly. “You're sappy,” he states, moving his thumb soothingly over Dean's cheekbone. Dean scoffs, taking Cas' hand and intertwining their fingers. Cas bites his lip, squeezing Dean's hand. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

 

Dean looks at him, swallowing. “It's... not nothing. It's just... there was another fight with our dad. And then he left.”

 

Cas nods slowly, looking him in the eye, and Dean knows he's trying to read his mind. And Dean thinks that he wants to talk with Cas about this, at least kind of. It's just that he's never talked to someone about this, not with someone outside of the family. Hell, even within the family, they've barely talked about this topic.

 

“It's okay,” Cas says gently. “You don't have to tell me.”

 

“It's just... I don't understand it,” Dean says quietly, shrugging his shoulders. He really doesn't know what happened, and why now. 

 

“Maybe you need to really think about it before you're able to talk about it. Just so you know, I'm a very good listener, and you don't have to fight all alone.”

 

Dean smiles at Cas and the blue-eyed boy returns his smile. “I want you to be honest with me as well,” Cas says, shrugging a bit and looking down. “If we're both a mess, if we're both a work in progress, then this is a two-way street and we both have to be there for one another. If you're able to keep up with my shit, then I'll be able to keep up with your shit as well.” He looks back up and at Dean, who's lost for words for a moment.

 

He loves Castiel. He really does.  _ Fuck. _ He can't tell Cas, not yet – they're both not ready for this.

 

Therefore, Dean just nods. He doesn't know what to say and simply hugs Cas again. “Thank you,” he repeats quietly. Cas huffs a small breath, but he hugs him back, wrapping his arms tightly around Dean. 

 

The door of Missouri's office opens and Sam peeps out. Dean and Cas let go of each other, but Dean takes Cas' hand again and pulls him along. They enter the office; Dean ruffles Sam's hair and chuckles, when his little brother slaps his hand away. Missouri is sitting on the chair behind her desk and no one mentions that Dean and Cas are holding hands. But Dean sees the way Sammy smiles and that immense relief overwhelms him once again, because his brother accepts him.

 

But all the bad feelings because of what John said to him are still there, although Castiel's presence is able to diminish them. He locks eyes with Missouri and she seems to understand that he doesn't want to talk about what happened right now. Cas looks at him questioningly and Dean knows that Cas is worried about him. He's wondering what Sam told Missouri, but as it turns out he told her the same thing Dean told Castiel – there was a fight with their dad, and then John left.

 

“Do you think your father will come home soon?” Missouri asks, looking from Dean to Sam. 

 

Dean rubs his neck. “I really don't know.”

 

Sam looks sad, worried and angry at the same time, and that's upsetting him. Dean wishes he could do something about that.

 

“Do you need some distance between you and him?” Missouri asks suddenly, her eyes shining warmly. 

 

“What do you mean by that?” Dean asks, a little taken aback.

 

“Well, I have a comfortable guest room in my house,” she answers. Dean looks at her with wide eyes, but Sam starts to smile right away. It's hard not to like Missouri as soon as you know her a little, but Dean tilts his head slightly, looking at her. “We can't ask you that.”

 

“Good for you then that you don't have to ask me. I'm offering you it.”

 

Dean looks at Cas, who has a small but soft smile playing on his lips, and the blue-eyed boy nods to him. Dean looks back to Sammy, who's nodding as well. He huffs a small breath.

 

“I told you, you can always come to me, when there's a problem,” Missouri says gently. Dean's still hesitating, but eventually he agrees on it. Sam is relieved and without hesitation, they help Cas and Missouri to apply the rest of the decorations. 

 

It's actually a lot of fun and at some point, Cas puts a crown on Dean's head. The crown is a circle out of metal, and there are red and golden autumn leaves attached to it. It looks like something a forest prince in a fantasy movie would wear. 

 

“What are you...? What is this?” Dean asks, and he hears Sam giggling somewhere behind him. But there's a really big grin on Castiel's face as he's looking at him now. 

 

“A crown looks good on you,” Cas says quietly, tracing a line down Dean's cheek with his fingertip. “Beautiful.”

 

Dean has to swallow and he feels the blush creeping up his neck and covering his face. Castiel is still grinning, and Dean just leans forward and kisses him. He simply has to do that right now.

 

“Could you two focus?” Missouri asks, but Dean hears the smile in her voice. 

 

They finish redecorating the shop and Dean puts the crown back on a shelf, taking Cas' hand once again. “I'll quickly drive home, to grab some stuff for Sam and me.”

 

“I'll go with you,” Cas says immediately and Dean wants to protest, but Cas doesn't let him. “You shouldn't go alone. Sam can already drive with Missouri to her house, and we'll be right there.”

 

Dean bites his lip, but then he nods and after everyone's agreed on the plan, they part ways. Sam drives with Missouri to her house, and Dean and Cas get into the Impala and drive to the house of the Winchesters. 

 

Only when they're already standing in the hallway, Dean realizes Cas has never been inside of their house. He starts to chew on the inside of his cheek, knowing very well that they don't have much and their house isn't pretty like the house of the Novaks. But the blue-eyed boy just looks around, interested in everything, without a judgmental expression on his face. 

 

They go upstairs – John isn't home, thank god – and first into Sammy's room before they go into Dean's room. Dean packs a bag for his little brother and him with only a few necessities. He feels awkward, when Cas is standing in his room, since there's only a bed, a closet, a small nightstand and two  _ Star Wars _ posters on the wall. He wants to say something, but Cas just kisses him gently. 

 

“It's charming,” he decides, chuckling softly. “Do you have everything you need?”

 

Dean sighs and nods, and Cas takes his hand, leading him downstairs. They leave the house and Cas tells him Missouri's address, showing him the way while he's driving.

 

Missouri's house is friendly, bright and warm. Dean instantly feels at ease there. Sam and Missouri made some sandwiches and they eat together, only talking about light topics. Afterwards, Cas says that he should go home, since Lucifer is probably already waiting for him. Dean doesn't want him to go, but he doesn't say anything and just watches how Cas farewells Missouri and Sam. Then, he sees Cas to the door. They're standing on the front porch – to have a small, private moment with each other –, when Missouri calls his name. “Dean, before I forget. Be a gentleman and ask Castiel to dinner tomorrow.”

 

Cas chuckles. “Seems like you're going to stay here for a while.”

 

Dean nods, grinning. “I don't mind. And by the look of it, Sam doesn't mind either.”

 

“Missouri really cares about you.”

 

“I've noticed. I just don't really know why.”

 

Cas steps up to him, carefully framing his face with his hands. “Because you're a good person. And she knows that I care about you.”

 

Dean smiles at Cas. “Sometimes, you're sappy as well.”

 

Cas shakes his head, huffing a small laugh.

 

“Come here,” Dean says softly and pulls Cas even closer, so he can kiss him. This time the kiss lasts considerably longer, and Dean just melts. He  _ allows _ himself to melt against Cas. He needs this blue-eyed boy so fucking much, and in that moment he makes a decision – because he trusts Castiel.

 

The next day Dean leaves Missouri's house around 11 am. She has let them sleep until almost 10 am and even made them a superb breakfast. He knows that Sam is in good hands with her, and she even wants to help him with a history project. 

 

He drives over to Cas' house, and a sleepy-eyed Castiel is answering the door. The dark-haired boy rubs his eyes. “Dean, what are you doing here? I thought we've made an appointment for tonight.”

 

Dean just smiles at him, stepping closer and pulling Cas into a kiss. The blue-eyed boy tastes like coffee and a warm feeling pulses in Dean's chest. “Good morning,” he whispers against Cas' lips, who sighs. “Good morning.”

 

Dean kisses him again. “Can I come in? I wanted to talk with you.”

 

Cas nods and he stands aside to let Dean in. “Where's Lucifer?” he asks, looking around. 

 

“He's on a visit to a friend,” Cas answers, and they go upstairs and into Cas' room, sitting down on the bed. Dean is wearing his usual jeans and a t-shirt under a plaid shirt, but Castiel is still just wearing grey sweatpants and a red sweater. Dean points at Castiel's everything, who looks at him quizzically. 

 

“You look cute like this.”

 

Cas blushes faintly, but he starts smiling, though he's shaking his head. Dean has already noticed that Cas always shakes his head whenever he's complimenting him – as if he wanted to shrug off it every time. That's making Dean sad somehow, because every time he compliments Castiel, he is serious. He means all the compliments. But they're working on all this. That's the reason why Dean is here right now.

 

“What do you want to talk about?” Cas asks carefully. Dean runs his fingers through his hair. “About what happened yesterday.”

 

Cas nods, smiling softly at him. “Okay.”

 

Dean bites his lip, he doesn't really know where to start, but Cas waits patiently for him to sort his thoughts. “The fight with dad yesterday was about mom,” Dean says slowly. Cas nods again, but he still doesn't say something. Dean looks down, starting to fiddle with Cas' purple blanket. “You have to know that I don't talk about my mom. After she died, dad just packed us into the car and we... fled. And we never really talked about this topic. And like I said, I'm not good at this.”

 

“Dean. It's fine. We don't have to talk about this. I understand how hard it is.”

 

_ Of course, Cas understands that _ , Dean thinks sadly. “No, I want to talk about it – with you.”

 

Cas takes his hand, giving it a squeeze. “Okay.”

 

Dean gives him a small smile. “Okay. Um... I've told you that my mom died in a fire.”

 

“I remember that,” Cas says quietly. 

 

Dean clears his throat. “Well, the thing is the fight yesterday was so...  _ confusing _ . I don't know. We came home and dad was in his bedroom, but the door was open. We were never allowed to go into his room and I stopped questioning it at some point, because we always had more urgent problems. But now I think I know why he didn't want us to go into his room. He has kept all this stuff about mom and her death – like extracts from newspaper articles, reports and photographs.”

 

“And what is so confusing about that?”, Cas wonders. 

 

Dean bites the inside of his cheek. “It sounds so... so surreal and weird, but dad thinks that something killed mom. That something caused the fire in our old house.”

 

Cas furrows his brow. “You mean...  _ someone _ ?”

 

Dean huffs a small, humorless laugh, rubbing his face. “I asked him the same, but he really means  _ something _ . Like... like something  _ supernatural _ . He sounded so serious, and he even said that he's closing in on it. I tried to explain to him that it was an electrical fire, that it was an accident. But he didn't want to listen to me.”

 

Cas bites his lip. “Your dad is alcoholic, right?”

 

Dean nods, shrugging his shoulders. “Dad isn't crazy,” he says quietly. “He's... broken. He needs help, but he doesn't want any help, especially not from me.”

 

“Did he say that to you?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“What else did he say to you?” Cas asks. Dean looks at him and knows right away that Cas knows there's more to it than that. He shifts uncomfortably, looking away again.

 

“Dean?”

 

“Mh?”

 

“You don't have to tell me what it was, but just be honest. There's more your father said to you, right?”

 

Slowly, Dean looks back up and into those blue, blue eyes.  _ God, he doesn't deserve Castiel. _ He swallows and nods. “He... he said it's my fault.”

 

Cas stares at him, horrified. “He said  _ what _ ?”

 

“It's my fault that mom died.”

 

“Why would he say that?”

 

“I don't know. Maybe because it's true.”

 

Castiel's eyes widen and the ocean darkens. “What do you mean?”

 

“Dad is right,” Dean says bitterly, not looking at Cas anymore. He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes. “I'm to blame for it.”

 

“Dean...,” Cas starts, but Dean shakes his head, running his fingers roughly through his hair, tugging at his brown strands. “It's really true.”

 

“Dean,” Cas says again, but Dean keeps shaking his head and the words are just stumbling out of his mouth. “She wasn't supposed to be there. We were at the hospital. Sammy was sick and he was only two years old. We went to see a doctor, since he had a fever. I was tired and wanted to go home, so dad stayed with Sam and mom drove me home. After she put me to bed, she called grandma – I mean, her mother – to tell her how's Sammy and then there was the fire. I was able to run out of the house, and she was right behind me, but suddenly not anymore. There was an explosion on the main floor, and... and...” Dean trails off, only realizing now that there are tears in his eyes.

 

Suddenly, there are hands on his face. Cas put his hands on his cheek, framing Dean's face just like he did yesterday, but this time it's more firmly. He forces Dean to look at him. Cas is a lot closer and Dean's heart is beating faster automatically. 

 

“Dean,” Cas says, sternly but softly. “You said it yourself. It was an  _ accident _ .”

 

“But...,” Dean says, not knowing how to continue the sentence.

 

“You really think it's your fault?”

 

“If it hadn't been for me, she wouldn't have been at home.”

 

“You were a kid, Dean. You were six years old. Of course, you were tired. Of course, you wanted to go home.”

 

Dean is shaking his head once again. “If I hadn't...,” he starts again, but now Cas is shaking his head as well. “It's not your fault.”

 

Dean doesn't believe him. His whole life, he blamed himself for his mother's death, wishing they'd stayed at the hospital with John and little Sammy, even though these  _ what ifs _ are killing him. And John also blamed him for her death all these years.

 

He backs away from Castiel and suddenly, he's afraid he's done the wrong thing. He's angry at himself. After all, they're both a mess and honestly,  _ what happens when two storms collide? _ It causes even more chaos, doesn't it? How the fuck is he supposed to help Cas? How the fuck can he possibly be good for Cas, when he only puts all of his problems on Castiel's already loaded shoulders? Why the fuck is he even doing that? How can he do that to this gorgeous boy? He's so fucked up. Cas certainly deserves so much better.

 

“Please, don't,” Cas says all of a sudden. 

 

Dean looks back up and at him.  _ Oh god, what has he done?  _ Cas looks so fucking scared. 

 

“You promised you won't leave. I mean I could understand it, if you left because I – and everything that comes with that – have become too much. But please don't leave, because you think you're not good enough for me.”

 

“I'm fucked up, Cas. You deserve better,” Dean says weakly.

 

“I thought we're both a work in progress and that's completely fine,” Cas says, voice sounding bitter. Dean stares at him, not knowing what to say to that.

 

Cas takes a deep breath. “I need you,” he says quietly. “And that's not something I can admit easily, okay? This is fucking difficult for me. But I'm telling you right now – I need you. And if that changes anything, I  _ want _ you. I want you to stay. Because I think you are good enough.”

 

Dean swallows and he opens his mouth, but then Cas already continues speaking. “But if you want to go, I won't stop you.”

 

“I don't want to go,” Dean downright blurts out, and Cas looks at him with wide eyes.

 

“God, I'm so sorry,” Dean says, scooting closer to Cas again, wrapping his arms a little awkwardly around the blue-eyed boy. “I'm so sorry, Cas.”

 

Cas hugs him back, a little hesitantly, and Dean curses himself. He lets go of Cas, so that they can look each other in the eye. Dean rubs his face, huffing a small, broken breath. “I'm so sorry. You're right. We're both a work in progress. It's just... I guess, it's easier to say that to you, than it is to say that to myself. But I need you, too. I need you, Cas. And I'm really sorry. I won't go. I mean, if you still want me to stay.”

 

Cas smiles weakly at him. “Of course, I still want you to stay, idiot.”

 

Dean chuckles, feeling weirdly sad and okay at the same time. He leans forward, capturing Cas' lips with his own and putting one hand on Cas' neck. They kiss for a long moment, and Cas kisses him back eagerly. After the kiss, they just breathe each other in for two or three minutes. Dean stays as close to Cas as possible. 

 

“Tell me about a happy memory you have of your mom,” Cas says quietly and gently. Dean blinks at the blue-eyed boy, but answers honestly, voice just as quietly. “She sang  _ Hey, Jude _ to me and also to Sammy, every night when she put us to bed.”

 

“That's very sweet,” Cas says, thinking for a moment. “When I was five years old, my mom started to paint my fingernails.”

 

Dean's hurt starts to dissolve a little bit. “Really? Your mom has started that?”

 

Cas nods, a small smile playing on his lips. “I asked her if she could do it and she happily obliged. She loved bright colors and always wanted to paint my nails in them, but I always wanted them to be black.”

 

“What? Why?” Dean asks, actually surprised. Cas never has black fingernails, and he hardly wears black clothes. 

 

“Black was my happy color.” Cas shrugs his shoulders a bit. “I never understood why she loved bright colors so much. Maybe I do now.” He's sounding sad, and Dean intertwines their fingers, pressing a kiss to Cas' hand.

 

“I completely stopped wearing black after her funeral,” the blue-eyed boy admits quietly, rubbing his face with his free hand. “Eventually, I started to wear black again, but only from time to time, and I never paint my nails black.” He clears his throat. 

 

“I've noticed that,” Dean says, gently squeezing Castiel's hand.

 

“It still hurts.”

 

“I know,” Dean says. “I'm afraid it's always going to hurt.”

 

Cas nods slowly. “When I paint my fingernails, I feel closer to her, and also closer to myself.”

 

“The first part I get, but not the second.” Dean wrinkles his brow. 

 

“I can't explain it. I don't really know what I mean by that either.” 

 

“That's okay,” Dean says reassuringly. 

 

“Yeah?” Cas asks.

 

“Of course,” he answers softly.

 

“Lucifer told me I'm a lot like her.”

 

Dean smiles at Cas. “She sounds amazing, so that's great,” he says honestly, and Cas returns his smile. 

 

“Hannah,” he says after a moment. “Her name's Hannah.” Cas pulls up his sweatpants on his right leg to reveal a tattoo on his ankle – the letter  _ H _ , really small and delicate, but beautifully curved. “She always wore an ankle bracelet with the letter  _ H _ ,” Cas explains sheepishly.

 

Carefully, Dean touches the tattoo with his fingertips. “That's an awesome tattoo.”

 

“Yeah?” Cas says, and Dean nods.

 

“Do you have any tattoos?” Cas asks curiously, but Dean shakes his head. “No. But I want to have at least one. I just don't know what yet.”

 

“Once you start with it, you can't stop and want more,” Cas warns him jokingly. Dean smiles. “I've heard about that. How many tattoos do you have?”

 

Cas bites his lip. “A few. But I want a new one any time soon.” He shrugs his shoulders. Dean wants to know what else Cas has inked onto his body, but he doesn't ask. He'll get to know – eventually. _Small_ _steps_ , he reminds himself once again.

 

By now, he's embarrassed by his little anxiety attack only a few minutes ago – or more, when his demons were throwing his doubts at him again. But they don't talk about it again. They hold hands and kiss some more, and just when Cas suggested they could have a snack, since it's still a few hours until dinner and breakfast was some time ago already, Lucifer is coming home. 

 

“Should I leave?” Dean asks, and Cas rolls his eyes at him. “No, of course not. Just one thing before we go downstairs.”

 

“Your brother thinks we're a thing?” Dean asks jokingly, but he's smirking at Cas, who's shaking his head halfheartedly. “Well, I think he actually thinks that, especially after the little intervention we had...”

 

“You mean the  _ gayvention _ ,” Dean interrupts him, and Cas snorts. “Yeah, exactly.” He smiles at Dean.

 

“What?” Dean cocks his head.

 

“All I wanted to do was to thank you.”

 

“For what?” Dean asks, astonished. 

 

“For being honest with me, and for staying. I know that this whole thing isn't easy for you either, and I'm afraid that I'm only a burden...”

 

Dean wrinkles his brow, putting a finger against Castiel's lips, in order that he stops talking. “Don't do that. I want to stay – with you. Like you said, we just have to keep up with each other's shit. And I'm really sorry about earlier. But personally I think it's going to be worth it.”

 

Cas kisses him briefly. “Totally worth it. But small steps.”

 

Dean grins at him. “Small steps,” he agrees.

 

He isn't sure but he'd say Lucifer isn't that keen on seeing him, although Castiel's brother doesn't say anything about it. Dean and Cas eat some sandwiches in the kitchen and somehow, they dwell on the subject how to play poker. And Dean notices that Lucifer is eyeing them, especially him, but he ignores it just like Cas does. Though, when they're on their way to Missouri's place later, he has to ask the blue-eyed boy. 

 

“Lucifer doesn't really like me, am I right?”

 

Cas glances at him, shrugging his shoulders. “He's just worried about me.”

 

Dean nods. “I understand that. He thinks I'll hurt you.”

 

“I think he thinks that the whole thing will hurt me.”

 

Dean bites his lip, parking by the road in front of Missouri's house. Cas gently pulls his lip from his teeth, giving him a little peck on the lips. “I trust you. And if you'll ever leave, I wouldn't hate you. I'd hate myself even more, because I'll know that it's my fault.”

 

“I won't leave,” Dean says immediately, and at the same moment, he realizes what Cas just said.

 

_ Even more. _

 

_ I'd hate myself even more. _

 

He looks at Castiel sadly, who looks questioningly back at him. “What? Did I say something wrong?”

 

“You hate yourself?” Dean asks. Sure, he hates himself as well, but this boy next to him is so fucking gorgeous – body and soul –, despite  _ everything _ the universe has already thrown at him, and Cas really shouldn't hate himself.

 

But then again, Cas sees himself just like Dean sees himself –  _ as not good enough. _ And it's breaking Dean's heart. God, they're really so fucked up.

 

Cas throat ripples as he swallows. “Well...” He looks away. “Yes, I do,” he says quietly, shrugging slightly. 

 

Dean sighs. “We're works in progress,” he reminds Castiel, and also himself, once again. Cas huffs a breath, but he nods slowly. Dean kisses him on the cheek, making the blue-eyed boy smile.

 

“We'll talk about this again, but for now we should go in. They're probably already wondering what we're doing.”

 

They're still a bit early. Sam opens the door for them, smirking briefly at Dean, who ignores it. His little brother probably saw them in the car. Missouri is in the kitchen, cooking. She's fixing a soup as a starter, then a casserole with noodles, ham, cheese and peas, and as dessert a home made vanilla pudding. Dean, Cas and Sam set the table and before they eat, Sam shows them the poster for his history project Missouri assisted him with. 

 

Dean hasn't eaten this good and relaxed for a really long time, and he just tries to focus on enjoying it. Missouri asks him about work and how it's going. After dinner they all clean up the kitchen together, so they're done relatively fast. Sam disappears into the living room to add some last details on his poster, giving the others some time to talk.

 

Missouri starts the conversation by asking Dean if they want to stay a little longer at her house. They're sitting at the kitchen table and Missouri made them all a cup of tea. Dean shakes his head. 

 

“No, I think we're gonna go home.”

 

She doesn't try to change his mind. Instead, she assures him that they can always come to her, no matter what. She even gives him her landline number and also her phone number, so that they can always get a hold of her. Cas is smiling reassuringly at him the whole time. Of course, the question  _ where do they go from here _ comes up. They're all well aware that John needs help. Dean admits that he has absolutely no idea how they are supposed to react, what they are supposed to do, when they'll see John again. Neither Cas nor Missouri is able to give him an answer to that, but he didn't even expect them to. The situation they're in is really difficult, and Missouri also says that they'll just have to wait and see. 

 

Dean notices that they both, Cas and Missouri, don't pity him. They're just genuinely sorry for him and want to help him, or at least be there for him. But that's fine by him, and the important thing is that Sam and he aren't alone, and they don't have to go through this on their own. Dean is just glad that they are other people right by their side, especially for Sammy. Friends are a good thing, a very good thing.

 

He looks at Cas and returns his smile. They wait until Sam finished his school project and then they gather their stuff up. When they farewell each other, Sam first hugs Missouri and then also Castiel before he walks over to the car and already gets in it. Cas seems a little surprised because Sam hugged him, but also happy. Dean and he hug as well, for a bit longer.

 

“You're my best friend,” Dean says quietly. Cas looks at him with an indefinably expression in his eyes. It's like the ocean stops moving for a second, and then the waves are rolling again. Dean smiles widely at him and goes over to the Impala. Cas is shaking his head, still standing on Missouri's front porch, but he's beaming at Dean.

 

Yes – Castiel is worth everything, and Dean is in fact very much in love with the blue-eyed boy. He is able to admit it to himself, at least. And he can't wait for them to be ready to say this out loud. As long as Cas is there, by his side, Dean is sure they are able to figure everything out together. It's okay when someone starts to doubt again and has an anxiety attack, because the other one is there. Dean understands this now. And really, as long as they are there for each other, as long as Cas is there, Dean is convinced that this thing, he himself and his life are going to work out.

 


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really incredibly sorry that you had to wait so long for the new chapter. One of our cats died and I wasn't able to write.. but now, chapter 19 is finished and I hope you will like it.
> 
> Happy 2019! Hopefully, it's going to be a good year.
> 
> ~ KC

Castiel has an early shift at Missouri's shop today. She's in her office and speaking to someone on the phone. He knows there are some problems with one of her external suppliers that she needs to fix, and he also knows that he shouldn't get in her way until she's sorted this out. When there's no customer, he walks around and rearranges some of the items or dusts off some of the shelves. While doing so, he comes across the crown he put on Dean's head just a few days ago.

 

A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. Cas doesn't even know why he did that, but he was right – Dean _does_ look good in a crown. In fact, very good. Cas' smile widens. God, Dean is so beautiful and he is able to hold his hand, to hug him and even to kiss him. There's a flutter in his stomach (probably fucking butterflies, though that's such a silly cliche) and without thinking about it, Cas takes the crown and has a look at the price tag – **18 dollars**.

 

 _It'd be a sweet Christmas gift for Dean_ , Cas thinks, starting to bite his lip immediately. Wouldn't it be a little premature to get Dean a Christmas gift already? After all, Christmas is still like three months away, and he doesn't know at all what's going to be in three months. Cas stares at the crown that he put back on the shelf, remembering Dean's facial expression when he put it on his head. _You know what_ , he tells himself suddenly, _screw that_.

 

He takes the crown again, walking over to the counter, where he puts the 18 dollars in the register before he puts the crown in his backpack. Castiel is sure Dean is going to smile, when he unpacks it.

 

Who knows what's going to be in three months? But Cas wishes for the green-eyed boy still to be by his side, then.

 

“ _You're my best friend.”_

 

It was really sweet and also quite brave of Dean to say this to him. It's still managing to make Cas feel giddy in a really good way. And Cas can also be a bit proud of himself for telling Dean that he needs him. Sure, it cost him negotiation and furthermore, it was an uncomfortable situation. But Castiel did tell Dean that he needs him nevertheless, instead of shutting himself away again. He could've just pushed Dean away again and let it happen that Dean leaves. That might have been the _easiest_ way – then, it would have been over and Cas wouldn't have to fight against his demons anymore to be able to let Dean in, since Dean wouldn't be there anymore. But that's not what Cas wants. He _wants_ Dean. He wants Dean to stay, and he told him that. That was a relatively big step for him, and it had to be said. Dean needed to know that.

 

And yes, Dean started to doubt – it looked like he was about to have an anxiety attack or so – but he picked up courage again, and even apologized to Castiel, though that wasn't really necessary, since Cas is able to understand Dean. Still, suddenly he felt insecure, and he also told Dean that he wouldn't stop him, if he wanted to go. That's true. He wouldn't stop Dean, if he actually left, and not because he wants him to go, no. The reverse is true. But he also doesn't want Dean to do something that he doesn't want to do.

 

Though, the way things are going, Castiel seems to be what Dean wants at the moment. And Cas isn't going to complain about that. He wants to let Dean in more and more – he's already trying to let Dean in more and more – and he's sure that this thing is going to work somehow, if they just don't give up and if they're always honest with each other.

 

It's not easy – and no one said it would be – _but it's worth it._ Cas is completely convinced that Dean is worth it.

 

A woman enters the shop and Cas serves the new customer. She buys two scarves, one for her and one for her boyfriend. He packs the scarves into a paper bag and gives it to her, wishing her a nice day. She smiles at him, thanking him before leaving the shop. The rest of his shift is rather uneventful. There are a couple more customers, he cleans up the shop a little more, and Missouri asks his opinion on a few vases and on an occasional table.

 

Dean has to work this afternoon; that's why Cas is thinking about what he could do during the next few hours on his way home. Lucifer has to work until 6 pm, so for now Cas is home alone. But he doesn't mind. With a pack of chips, he makes himself comfortable on the couch in the living room and zaps from one TV channel to another to find something he wants to watch right now.

 

About 40 minutes later, the door bell is ringing. A bit taken aback, Cas looks up, wondering who could that be. Even though, Lucifer forgets his keys every now and then, it can't be his big brother, since he should still be at work. But maybe it's Dean, who wanted to surprise him? No, Cas thinks, wrinkling his brow. Dean is still working as well. So, who is it?

 

Cas gets up and answers the door, and much to his surprise, Sam Winchester is standing in front of him on their front porch. For a moment he just stares at him, not knowing what to say. Sam returns his look nervously.

 

“Sam, what are you doing here?”

 

Beneath Sam's nervousness Cas can see his tiredness, and Dean's little brother also seems to feel uneasy. Sam is biting his lip. “Can I come in?” he asks, not answering Castiel's question.

 

“Yeah, sure,” Cas says without hesitation, but he starts worrying. “Is something wrong?” He steps aside and Sam enters the house. Cas realizes Sam has never been here – did Dean give his address to his little brother?

 

“I wanted to talk to you. About Dean,” Sam says slowly, looking around. “If that's okay for you,” he adds.

 

Cas is a little unsure of what to do, but he doesn't want to dismiss Sam, whom he really likes. Besides, he's Dean's little brother. “Come on,” he says, going into the living room, and Sam follows him, still with an uneasy expression in his eyes. They sit down on the couch and Cas turns off the TV. “Would you like to drink something, or...?” he asks friendly, but Sam shakes his head. Cas nods, thinking of something to say. He just asks the first question that comes to his mind, when Sam doesn't say anything.

 

“Does Dean know you are here?”

 

Sam shakes his head again. “No, he's at work. Kevin gave me your address,” he admits.

 

Cas bites his lip, but he doesn't really mind that Sam is here. He's just wondering _why_ Sam is here. “Did something happen?”

 

“Not since the fight with dad. But that's also something I wanted to talk with you about,” Sam answers. Cas nods slowly, still feeling unsure. Dean told him that John has come back home, but he's disappearing again and again, only to come back again and again, though at various times. No one knows what to make of this.

 

Sam looks at him sheepishly. “You can tell me, if I'm overstepping any bounds. I really didn't know if I should actually come to you, or if I should just leave it alone.”

 

“Why did you decide to come to me?”

 

“Because of Dean. Because he's my brother and I care about him. And I know you care about him, too.”

 

“Dean and I aren't together,” Cas says, almost automatically, wanting to bite his tongue right away.

 

“I know,” Sam says hastily. “But you are _something_. You have something. And that's why you need to know about some stuff.”

 

Cas hesitates, since he doesn't want Dean to feel defrauded. He wants Dean to tell him everything and to be honest with him. But maybe there are things Cas already needs to know, and Dean isn't ready to talk about them just yet. And Sam sounds genuinely sad and worried. Maybe he should listen to what Sam wants to tell him. “I need to know about what?” he asks.

 

“Dean is not okay.”

 

Castiel furrows his brow. “I already know that.”

 

“Do you know to what extent?” Sam asks quietly.

 

Cas swallows, tilting his head a bit. Well – Dean is blaming himself for his mother's death, and he's dealing with daddy issues and kind of anxiety and depression, and also aggression problems. Cas realizes that he and Dean have in fact a lot in common. He bites his lip, looking at Sam and shrugging his shoulders. “I think so,” he answers.

 

“I like you, Cas. I really do. And I'm glad that he has you, because he won't talk to me. Or to anyone else.”

 

“What do you mean?” Cas presses his eyebrows together slightly.

 

“The fight with dad, everything dad has said to him, is making Dean feel extremely low. I'm noticing that, even though he's trying to hide it. He doesn't want to talk to me about it. Or about mom.” Sam looks down on his hands in his lap. “I don't remember her, and if it wasn't for photographs, I wouldn't even know what she looked like. I wish we would talk about her, but I also don't want to press Dean to do that, because I know he has great difficulty in doing so. He's blaming himself for her death and for years, he's walking around with all these feelings of guilt, and that is not going to change any time soon. Did you know that he hates winter and everything that comes with it, because mom died in November?” He looks back up and at Castiel.

 

Cas presses his lips together, shaking his head slowly. “No, I didn't know that,” he says, low-voiced.

 

Sam takes a deep breath. “I'm here, because I love my brother. And I know that he doesn't talk to me about his problems, because he wants to protect me. But I want to protect him, too.”

 

“That's understandable,” Cas says softly. “I have a big brother as well.”

 

Sam smiles at him. “You're very important to Dean. Even if he hadn't told me, I'd know it, simply because of the way he looks at you and the way he talks about you.”

 

Cas looks to the side, a little self-consciously. He wasn't really aware of how obvious it apparently is that there's something between him and Dean, or rather how obvious it is that Dean likes him.

 

“What did Dean tell you about me?” he wonders, worrying his lower lip between his teeth.

 

“That you two aren't together, but that you are a very special person.”

 

He looks at Sam with wide eyes. He didn't know what to expect Dean to have told his little brother about him, but that's definitely more than just unexpected. “He really said that?” Cas asks, trying not to start blushing.

 

Sam nods, smiling softly. “That's why I feel the need to talk to you about him. He's never had a serious relationship before – neither with a girl nor with a boy. I'm sure he would have told me then. I mean, he's told me about you now.” He shrugs his shoulders a bit.

 

Cas nods slowly. He also didn't know about that. They haven't talked about exes so far. After all, they aren't actually together, and there's not a lot that Castiel could tell Dean anyway. He has kissed one boy – after... after **it** has happened – and that has been one hell of a disaster. The only reason why is because he had a huge panic attack.

 

 _Thank god, that didn't happen when Dean and he kissed for the first time, or any time after that_ , Cas thinks.

 

“I'm glad he's told me about you. And I'm glad you're able to make him feel better. But I want him to be okay, even to be happy. He needs someone who he can talk to about what's going on inside of his mind.”

 

Cas looks at Dean's little brother, who is far too smart for his age, and he makes a decision. “I want Dean to talk to me – about anything. I want to help him. So, what else do I need to know?”

 

Sam seems relieved, nodding at Castiel's words. “You know, it's already hard for me – our whole family situation, I mean. I don't remember mom, and I also don't remember our life before her death. I don't remember our old house, and I don't remember how dad was back then.” He bites his lip, pausing for a moment. When he continues talking, he sounds far too tired for a 14-year-old. “It's hard that dad doesn't care about us, but the truth is I don't know it any different. For me, this is how it's always been, and it's not easy, but I'm kinda used to it.” Sam shrugs his shoulders sadly. “Dean isn't used to it, not in the same way. And he does remember mom and how dad was before her death. He does remember the life we had, and I know that we were happy back then. That's why it's like a thousand times harder for him.”

 

Castiel feels hollow. To hear all of this is a lot more difficult than he thought. He's feeling sorry for Dean and also for Sam, and even for John Winchester. He swallows, throat rippling. But he doesn't know what to say, and Sam keeps talking.

 

“Dean is always eager to please dad, he's always trying to please him, but he's never able to, because dad simply doesn't care. And I think dad hates Dean in a way, since he's blaming him for mom's death as well.” Sam rubs his eyes. “Dean has no idea how to deal with that. Dad has even kicked him out once.”

 

Cas' eyebrows shoot towards the ceiling in surprise. Dean has never mentioned that. “Really? When?”

 

“Shortly after we've moved here. On Dean's birthday.”

 

Cas' face darkens. He realizes he doesn't know when Dean has a birthday, but that doesn't really matter right now. There's an ache in his chest. In spite of everything, Dean is a _good_ person. He's an amazing big brother, he's trustworthy and reliable, he's careful and full of love. He's smart, funny and simply beautiful. _He's a good person._ And he deserves so much better than what life has already given him.

 

“Dean is a good person,” Sam says quietly, as if he knew what's going on inside of Castiel's head at the moment. “He's the best person I know, and yes, he has flaws. But who hasn't? Nobody's perfect and he's the best big brother in the whole world. I wouldn't want anybody else to take his place.”

 

Sam's words are taking the edge off Cas' aching heart a little bit.

 

“He's mostly fighting with himself. He actually thinks it's his fault that mom is dead.”

 

“I know,” Cas says, voice just as quiet as Sam's.

 

“He's running around with all this guilt inside of him, but he never talks about what depresses him, because he doesn't want to be a burden.”

 

Cas nods, thinking that he's able to relate to this. But he agrees with Sam. Dean needs to talk about these things, just like Castiel does as well. The problem is they both have to learn how to do that first, talking about the dark things in their minds – and not shutting themselves away and dealing with these things on their own. Maybe they are able to help each other with that. Cas really wants to help Dean, and he wants him to be okay, to be happy as well. But before he can be okay and even happy, Dean has to accept himself and his past, and he has to move on from all of this. But where do they start?

 

Suddenly, he's remembering something Dean has told him. _You have to know that I don't talk about my mom. After she died, dad just packed us into the car and we... fled._

 

“Did you ever go back to your old house?”

 

Sam seems surprised by that question, but he shakes his head. “No, we never went back to Kansas.”

 

“Is your mom buried there?”

 

“Yes.” Sam nods, still looking a little confused.

 

“So, you've never visited her grave?” Cas asks in disbelief.

 

Sam shrugs, looking sad again. “Dad didn't want to go back, so we never did.”

 

Cas starts to chew on the inside of his cheek. He might have an idea now where they could start, though he doesn't think Dean will be too keen about it. He smiles at Sam. “Thank you, Sam. For coming here and talking with me.”

 

“It was really alright?” Sam asks, slightly worried. But Castiel nods reassuringly. “Yes, it was really alright. In fact, it was a very good idea.”

 

Sam is incredibly relieved.

 

“If you ever want to talk to me again, no matter about what, you know where to find me,” he tells Sam, when he's seeing him to the door. Sam nods, smiling up at him. He's really tall for his age.

 

“Thank you, Cas,” he says quietly before he hugs him quickly. Cas chuckles, hugging Sam back. “Dean is very lucky to have you as his little brother.”

 

Sam returns his look sheepishly, but he's still smiling. Cas watches him walking down the street. He's actually glad Sam was there and talked to him about Dean. He knows he is able to do something for the green-eyed boy, but the question is – _how does he tell him?_

 

Cas and Dean see each other on Saturday and go to the park. Cas watches a guy playing with his dog (a golden retriever puppy – incredibly cute), while Dean tells him that Sam is spending the weekend at Kevin's place. Dean is really glad Sam and Kevin are such good friends by now. Cas smiles at that. He's also glad about that, but he's biting his lip.

 

Dean is the one who directed the conversation towards his little brother, so Castiel decides to draw on that. “Sam is worried about you, you know,” he says, looking at Dean, who's returning his look but furrowing his brow. “What do you mean?”

 

“I've talked to Sam,” Cas says hesitantly.

 

“When?” Dean asks simply, though he's clenching his jaw. Cas isn't able to read the expression in Dean's eyes. “Two days ago. He came over to my place,” he answers.

 

Dean stops walking and Cas does, too.

 

“What did you talk about?”

 

“You,” Cas says. “Like I said, he's worried about you, so he wanted to talk with me about you.”

 

Dean looks like he's feeling extremely uncomfortable, and Cas feels bad because he knows that it's his fault. He doesn't want to make Dean uncomfortable, but they _have_ to talk about this. Slowly, he steps closer to Dean. “I think it's fine that he's talked to me,” he says quietly. “I'm actually glad that he did.”

 

“What did he tell you?” Dean asks, voice defensive, and he's not looking at Castiel anymore. Cas is afraid he started this the wrong way. _Fuck – he really isn't good at this._

 

“A few things,” he answers Dean's question. “He loves you, Dean. He's worried about you, and he said he's glad that you have me.”

 

Dean stares at him with wide eyes, but he doesn't say something, so Cas keeps talking.

 

“Sam said you don't talk about your problems. At least, not with him.”

 

Dean looks away again and at the ground. Cas opens his mouth, but doesn't know how to continue. He feels slightly awkward, standing there in the middle of the path, even though there's no one else beside them. The guy with the dog isn't there anymore; Cas didn't even notice that he's left. Still, he looks around and sees a bench, not far from them. He takes Dean's hand, pulling him along and leading the way. The green-eyed boy tags along after him, and they sit down.

 

Cas doesn't let go of Dean's hand, and he's relieved when Dean doesn't pull his hand away either.

 

“You know,” Cas continues quietly, a bit hesitantly. “He kinda just elaborated on what you yourself have already told me.”

 

Dean starts to bite his lip, staring at their hands, but he still doesn't say something. Cas swallows, scratching his cheek. “I want to help you, just like you want to help me. We're there for each other, right? And I don't judge you for anything. I can understand you.”

 

“Yeah?” Dean asks, still not looking at him.

 

“Yeah, I can understand why you blame yourself for what happened.”

 

Dean shoots him a glance. “How could you understand that?” he asks incredulously.

 

“Because... I can relate to it,” Cas admits slowly, almost reluctantly, but he does push the words out of his mouth. Dean has to hear it, he has to know it. Cas clears his throat and finally Dean looks up; his green eyes are shining oddly. “What do you mean by that?” he asks, his voice croaky.

 

Cas shrugs his shoulders. “Don't you think that I blame myself for what happened to me as well?”

 

For a few moments Dean is just staring at him, seeming totally lost for words, and Cas starts to regret what he just told him. Maybe he shouldn't have done that. But he wanted to get through to Dean.

 

“Cas...,” the green-eyed boy says quietly. “Those are two completely different things. What happened to you is in no way your fault.”

 

Cas swallows with a click, running his fingers through his hair and rubbing his neck. “I don't want to argue about this now. That's not the point. That's not why I told you that.”

 

“But...,” Dean wants to interrupt him, but Castiel puts a finger against his lips. “Dean, please. The point is I want you to know that I know exactly how you're feeling. I actually understand you. I know how it feels to blame yourself for something this awful, and I also know how it feels when...” He pauses for a second, looking at their hands before taking a deep breath and looking back up at Dean. Cas reminds himself that Dean deserves to know everything and that he's the one who decides if he wants to stay with him, or not. Cas doesn't has a say in this, no matter how much he wants Dean to stay. But weirdly, he already knows that Dean won't go, that he won't leave right now.

 

“...when someone else is also telling you that it's your fault.”

 

Dean looks at him and there's a bottomless expression in his nonetheless beautiful green eyes. Confusion, understanding, sadness and anger are dimming the color of Dean's eyes and he's clenching his jaw. “Who has told you that?” he asks through gritted teeth. His voice is even rougher than before.

 

Cas didn't want to make Dean angry, but now it's too late. He answers honestly. “My father. On my 14 th  birthday. He said that what happened to me is my fault, and that I deserved it. Because of my homosexuality.” His voice faded to a whisper at the end. He can still hear his father's voice in his head so clearly.

 

Once more, silence spreads itself out between the two of them. Cas can almost see it, the way it's wafting in the space between their bodies like fog. He starts to chew on the inside of his cheek. He's never told anybody about this. Only he, Bartholomew and Lucifer knew about it, because they're the ones who've been there when Bartholomew had said those words, without thinking about how much harm they're going to cause. Castiel's friends know that he and his father hate each other, but they think it's only because Cas is gay. He could never bring himself to repeat out loud what his father had said to him. And now, he told Dean.

 

He hears Dean's breathing, but he doesn't dare to look up again just yet. It's easier just to look at their hands and to watch Dean intertwining their fingers slowly.

 

“I'm sorry,” Dean says quietly.

 

Cas looks up, wrinkling his brow. “For what?”

 

Dean shrugs. “I'm just sorry.”

 

Cas bites his lip. “I don't want you to apologize, Dean.”

 

“I know.”

 

A woman walks past them, pushing a baby stroller. Cas looks after her for a moment. “You know, the whole point of this conversation is actually that I hit on an idea after I've talked to Sam.”

 

“What idea?” Dean asks softly.

 

“Sam has told me that you've never gone back to your old house, and you've also never visited your mother's grave.”

 

Dean nods slowly, looking at him questioningly. “Dad had never wanted us to...,” he says, voice cracking ever so slightly.

 

“What if we went back?” Cas asks.

 

Dean stares at him, but then he looks away. Cas can see the hesitation and also the uncertainty in those green eyes and in Dean's facial expression. Still, he decides to continue speaking.

 

“We could drive to Kansas and visit your mother's grave. Just the two of us.”

 

“Castiel...,” Dean starts, taking a deep breath. He bites his lip, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don't know.”

 

“It's fine. You don't have to give me an answer immediately. Just, think about it. Okay?”

 

Dean opens his mouth and it seems as if he wanted to say something against it.

 

“For me?” Cas pleads quietly.

 

The green-eyed boy returns his look, and then he nods. “Okay. I'll think about it.”

 

Cas is relieved, smiling softly at Dean. They walk to Castiel's house, talking about work a bit, and when they arrive in Cas' street, Dean holds his hand out to stop him.

 

“Thank you, Cas.”

 

“For what?”

 

“Just... everything, I guess.” Dean huffs a small laugh, shrugging his shoulders a little awkwardly. Cas thinks it's absolutely endearing.

 

He has to wait for Dean's answer for a week and a half. But he doesn't put any pressure on Dean, since he wants him to really think about it and to be sure of what he wants to do. So, he's giving Dean the time that he needs. And it's not as if it was an uneventful time for Castiel.

 

Only three days after Dean's and his conversation at the park, Crowley calls him to announce that he's going to visit Cas and the others for a few days.

 

“What? When?” Cas asks, pleasantly surprised.

 

“Tomorrow,” Crowley answers. “I know it's a bit short notice, but...”

 

“That's no problem,” Cas interrupts the Brit. “Do you want to stay at our place?”

 

“Sure, if Lucifer's fine with it.”

 

Lucifer _is_ fine with it, and 24 hours later Crowley is putting his bag onto the bed in their guest room. It's Wednesday afternoon and most of their friends are free. They meet up at Pamela's diner, who is thrilled about having them all there – Cas, Crowley, Gabriel, Billie, Kevin, Charlie, Benny, Gadreel, Meg, Garth and also Dean.

 

Cas has called the green-eyed boy, asking if he wanted to come as well while ignoring the amused look on Crowley's face.

 

It's not really busy at Pamela's diner at the moment, and that's coming in handy for them.

 

When Charlie is hugging Crowley, she tells them that Dorothy is sending her apologies – she has to help her father with something.

 

They push three tables together, in order to be able to sit all together. The most aren't even surprised that Dean is there as well, and everyone is stopping themselves from saying something about it. Though, Castiel does see Gadreel grimacing and the look Meg and Gabriel are shooting each other. Charlie is just overly excited and Benny is happy to see Dean again. Dean even sits down next to Benny, but he's flashing Cas a smile across the table. Cas returns the smile while listening to Crowley, Gabriel and Charlie who are talking about college.

 

Garth is sitting across from Benny and Dean, next to Kevin, and he tells Dean all about his road trip. Dean seems actually interested in it. And when Benny tells them about his apprenticeship, Dean is listening carefully to him as well.

 

On the table next to them are sitting Meg, Cas and Gabriel, Crowley; and on the third table are sitting Billie, Charlie and Gadreel (who's sitting as far away from Dean as possible – Cas assumes he's doing that on purpose).

 

It's a fun afternoon. They talk and laugh and eat apple and cherry pie. Every now and then, Pamela joins them, when she has the time for it. Crowley flirts jokingly with Billie, and Meg tells funny stories about things that happened at the bar.

 

Charlie, Kevin, Gabriel and Billie are the first to leave, because they have to learn either for school or college.

 

“Commendable,” Meg says, grinning at them. Gabriel pokes her in the ribs, when he hugs her. Gadreel, Benny and Garth are the next to leave, and Castiel, Crowley, Meg and Dean farewell Pamela together with the others. They all leave the diner together, but Castiel, Dean, Meg and the Brit stay a little bit longer, standing outside the diner and smoking together.

 

But then, Meg has to leave for work and she hugs Crowley and Castiel, kissing him on the cheek. She even hugs Dean very briefly and ruffles Cas' hair, although she has to raise herself on tiptoes to do so. “Bye, Clarence. See you then,” she adds, directed towards Dean and Crowley, before she walks away.

 

The others finish smoking and Crowley lets them know that he has to go to the bathroom. Though, Cas assumes the Brit just wanted to give Dean and him a moment alone together.

 

“Why does Meg call you _Clarence_?” Dean asks curiously.

 

“It's from a movie,” Cas explains, shaking his head a bit. “It's the name of the angel in the movie _It's A Wonderful Life_.”

 

Dean squints at him, thinking for a moment, but then he shrugs. “Never heard of it.”

 

Cas chuckles. “Really?” he asks surprised.

 

Dean nods, putting his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. “Why?”

 

“It's a good movie. We have to watch it some time.”

 

“Okay. But I can already say that it fits.” Dean smirks at him.

 

Cas presses his eyebrows together, looking at Dean questioningly. “What fits?”

 

“You and the name of an angel.”

 

Cas scoffs, running his fingers through his hair once. “Now, you're just flirting.”

 

Dean laughs, and Cas really wants to kiss him right now, but he already noticed that Pamela is glancing at them through the window every now and then. Besides, Crowley is coming back.

 

They farewell each other, and Dean drives home to Sam. Castiel and Crowley walk home to Cas; they smoke two more cigarettes on the way. Later, they have dinner together with Lucifer and after it, they go back into Cas' room and listen to music, smoke and talk like they always used to do.

 

Crowley shakes his head when song after song by _Panic! At The Disco_ is playing in the background. He takes a long pull on his cigarette, looking at Castiel contemplatively. Cas puts his cigarette out in the ashtray, returning the look.

 

“What?” Cas asks.

 

“How is it going with Dean?” Crowley asks innocently. Cas bites his lip, squinting at his best friend.

 

“A little bird told me that you two are making progress.” The Brit raises one eyebrow at him.

 

“Dammit, Charlie,” Cas says quietly.

 

Crowley chuckles. “So?”

 

“It's going well.” Cas shrugs, scratching his neck.

 

“You didn't sit next to each other at the diner.”

 

“And?”

 

“ _But_ I still saw you watching one another quite often.”

 

Cas grabs the cigarette pack, getting another one out and lighting it up. He doesn't say something.

 

The Brit keeps staring at him. “You love him.”

 

Cas looks at him, cigarette dangling from his lips – shocked. “What?”

 

Crowley didn't ask a question – it was a statement. “You love him,” he repeats calmly.

 

There's a strange feeling in the pit of Castiel's stomach, but there's also fear, running through his veins.

 

“You didn't know that?” Crowley wonders, and Cas is more than just a little confused.

 

“It's quite obvious, if you ask me.” Crowley shrugs once, but there's a knowing smile on his face.

 

In the next few days Castiel is thinking a lot about his best friend's words. Crowley stays until Sunday and they don't talk about it again. Friday morning Dean stops by before they both have to work. Lucifer is already working and Crowley disappears for a few hours – Cas decides not to question it.

 

He and Dean have breakfast together, and Cas is glad that they're alone. They're holding hands and they're kissing, but he has to think about Crowley's words all the time. That's why he's looking at Dean wonderingly very often.

 

_Fucking hell – does he love Dean?_

 

Yes, he does have feelings for the green-eyed boy, but is it really love? Cas has absolutely no idea. Though, it's scary. Missouri has told him once that his feelings for Dean are more than a simple crush, and by now this is definitely true. He has warm feelings for Dean and it's so not just a simple crush. Those are grand emotions, this is something great and that's a big deal – for the both of them.

 

_Fuck. Is Cas even ready for love – for being in love?_

 

He looks at Dean. The green-eyed boy is simply magnificent and suddenly, Cas _wants_ to be ready for love and being in love. It's really frightening, but he already knows that Dean is worth everything and that he wants to take this risk. And he certainly doesn't want to give up on whatever it is they're having. They like each other and somehow – even though, they're both fucked up – _they're doing one another good._

 

Cas puts his empty cup in the sink, furling his eyebrows. All of a sudden, there are two strong arms wrapping around his middle. He yelps a little, more surprised than scared, but still, Dean relinquishes his grip instantly. Cas swallows, covering Dean's arms with his hands and leaning back until his back is pressed against Dean's chest.

 

“I'm sorry,” he says quietly.

 

Dean tightens is grip again, putting his chin on Castiel's shoulder. “You don't have to apologize, Cas. I should have asked first.”

 

Cas is getting more and more used to feeling this comfortable around Dean and with being close to the green-eyed boy. It's a good feeling, especially since Dean is keeping his mind on not to overstep any of Cas' limits and not to scare him. But sometimes – just as he did a few moments ago – he's abandoning himself to an impulse, because something is on his mind and he wants to do it right away. And that's fine. Cas is not mad at Dean for that. He actually likes it, because it's helping him to get more and more out of his comfort zone.

 

Leaning even more against Dean, he tells him all of that, since he wants to be honest with Dean, and he trusts him. Dean listens carefully to him, and a smile is touching the corners of his mouth.

 

“Thank you for telling me that,” Dean says, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of Cas' neck, who starts to smile. Cas turns his head, so he is able to kiss Dean on the lips. He sighs softly. “You're beautiful.”

 

Dean stares at him, swallowing. But there's a sweet smile on his lips. Instead of saying something, he just kisses Cas.

 

Then, Dean has to go to work, and Cas spends the rest of the morning thinking while lying on the couch. He knows that it's too early in their _relationship_ (he doesn't know what else to call it) to talk about being in love, especially with their states of mind. Cas thinks they're both not ready to say this out loud. He himself is especially not ready to say it out loud. But that's giving him the time to contemplate if he actually loves Dean.

 

 _Love_ is a huge thing and – as already mentioned – a really big deal. Cas wants to make this right; he doesn't want to mess this up. Dean is beautiful and everything he wants. Yes, maybe _he_ _does love him –_ he's going to figure it out eventually – but isn't he lucky then, because Dean is truly an amazing person?

 

Cas bites his lip, creasing his forehead. He's only lucky if Dean loves him (too). He stares at the ceiling, still biting his lip. Dean wouldn't do the things he's doing, if he didn't have feelings for Castiel. And Sam has told him, hasn't he? Dean _does_ like him. Dean has told his little brother that he thinks _he, Castiel, is special._

 

On the entire way to Missouri's shop (where he has to work today), he's smiling.

 

About two hours into his shift, Crowley is entering the shop. He waits until Cas finished helping a customer, then he comes over to him.

 

“Where have you been?” Cas asks, adjusting some decorative articles on a shelf.

 

“I made contact with a few of my acquaintances around here,” Crowley answers, a mischievous grin on his lips. The Brit jerks his head once, and Cas follows him into a corner. He knows Missouri wouldn't be able to see them, if she came out of her office right now, and that's why they're standing here now. He wonders what Crowley wants from him.

 

“What's wrong?” Cas asks, creasing his forehead in confusion.

 

“Nothing's wrong,” Crowley says, rolling his eyes. He takes a small, transparent bag out of the inside pocket of his pea coat. There's a white powder in the bag – cocaine.

 

Cas eyes it, feeling unsure. He hasn't taken anything for months, and he knows how glad Lucifer is about that. But the question he's asking himself right now is if he _needs_ it. Does he actually need to take anything at the moment?

 

He has always just taken something, if he had wanted to forget about reality – if he had wanted _to escape_ reality. He never really liked his reality, and when it all became too much, he just had to go to Crowley, who's always able to get him anything he wanted. But for the first time since his mother has died, reality is more than just bearable – it's... _nice, or even beautiful_. Because of Dean. Because Dean is a part of his reality now.

 

So, with Dean by his side, does he still need to take any drugs? Cas remembers something Dean has said after they've kissed in the car in front of his house.

 

_This is better than any drug, though._

 

A smile starts to tug at the corners of his mouth. Crowley is looking at him expectantly.

 

“No, thanks. I don't need it,” Cas says quietly.

 

Crowley's eyebrows shoot towards the ceiling in surprise. “Wow,” he says, putting the bag back into his pocket.

 

Again, Castiel's forehead creases in confusion. “What?”

 

“Nothing,” Crowley says, but there's a smirk on his lips that's saying he knows something that Cas doesn't know.

 

Cas wants to say something, but then the door to Missouri's office opens and Crowley walks past him to say hello to Missouri. So he just shrugs to himself before following the Brit.

 

Saturday evening, they're having a farewell dinner for Crowley with all of their friends, but without Dean. And on Sunday, Castiel and Lucifer drive Crowley to the airport. After it, Cas walks to the house of the Winchester's. The Impala is standing in the driveway, so someone (hopefully not John, though) is home. He rings the bell and Sam answers the door, smiling when he sees him.

 

“Hey, Cas.”

 

“Hey, Sam.”

 

“Dean is upstairs, in his room,” Sam says, stepping aside so Cas can enter the house.

 

“Thanks.” Cas goes upstairs, thinking that he should have called and asked if it's okay when he comes by, but then he's already knocking at Dean's door.

 

“Come in, Sammy,” Dean says, and Cas smiles softly, opening the door. Dean is lying on his bed, on his back with a book in his hands. He looks up, probably to ask what his little brother wants.

 

“Hey,” Cas says, closing the door behind him.

 

“Cas!” Dean's face lights up. He puts the book on his nightstand and gets up, pulling Cas into a hug. Cas chuckles, wrapping his arms around him. “I hope it's okay that I just show up uninvited,” he says when they let go of each other.

 

Dean gives him a peck on the lips. “Of course. Always.”

 

Castiel smiles and kisses him. _Yep, definitely better than any drug._

 

Cas is the first to pull away again, gently running his fingers through Dean's brown hair that's a little bit more messier today than usual – Cas likes that, since it's looking good.

 

He glances at the book Dean put on his nightstand, perking his eyebrows up. “You read _Vonnegut_?”

 

Dean looks at the book as well and then back to Cas, shrugging his shoulders and blushing faintly. Cas knows that Dean is smart, and he also knows that Dean doesn't give himself nearly enough credit.

 

They go downstairs and find Sam in the kitchen, sitting at the table. He asks if they want to play the _Categories Game_. Dean looks at Cas questioningly and Cas nods. “Yeah, sure. Why not?”

 

They sit down at the kitchen table as well and Sam gives each a pen and a blank sheet of paper. The categories they're going to play with are _Countries, Cities, Rivers, Games & Sports, Famous People, Things That Are Blue _ and _Book Titles_. It's a lot of fun, and to his own surprise Dean wins the game. Cas grins at him when the green-eyed boy is shrugging off his victory. Cas isn't surprised that Dean won the game, not at all. Dean is actually very smart, and Castiel just wishes this beautiful boy would see himself as Cas is seeing him. But then again, Cas doesn't know what Dean is seeing in him either. He bites the inside of his cheek. They really have to help each other with that.

 

He knows that they're headed in the right direction – finally. At the latest when Dean is telling him that he's on board with Castiel's idea the next Wednesday, Cas would have noticed that. He is a little surprised, but infinitely relieved.

 

“Really?” he asks, just to make sure that he hasn't misheard anything.

 

Dean smiles sheepishly at him, nodding. “Really.”

 

Cas kisses Dean on the cheek and returns his smile. He was scared that Dean would say no, even though he had every right to do so. Cas doesn't want to pressure Dean into doing something he doesn't want to do, and it doesn't matter that Cas thinks his idea could really help Dean. But now that Dean agreed with it, he can stop worrying.

 

Of course, they have to plan the whole thing now, but it's surprisingly easy. At least, it's definitely far more easier than Cas thought it would be. They're both able to take a few days off and Dean talks with Missouri and Sam. Dean and Cas agreed that it would be best, if Sam could spend these few days at Missouri's place, and she agrees with them. She's going to take care of Sam with pleasure, who has no problem with this arrangement as well. In fact, he's actually looking forward to it. Besides, Sam just seems to be as relieved as Cas that Dean is accepting somebody's help.

 

Lucifer is the only one who's not overly excited about it. But he notices that this is extremely important to his little brother, so he decides not to say something against it. Besides, Castiel is 19 years old and allowed to do what he wants to do. He couldn't stop him from doing it anyway, so he isn't even going to try.

 

On the evening of the 12 th  October, Castiel is packing a bag and he knows that Dean and Sam are doing the same, since he briefly talked with Dean over the phone just a few minutes ago. He's feeling strangely calm, but that changes as soon as he wakes up the next morning. With an uneasy feeling in his bones, he's having breakfast with his brother. Then, Dean and Sam are already there to pick him up. He gets his bag and backpack from his room and joins Lucifer in the hallway, who's staring at him with a restless expression in his eyes.

 

Cas isn't sure if he should tell his brother not to worry, but Lucifer starts to speak before he can make a decision.

 

“Take care of yourself. And please, holler back.” Lucifer hugs him and Cas just hugs him back.

 

“Of course. You too.”

 

He leaves the house, walking over to the Impala and putting his bag and backpack into the trunk. He gets into the car, sitting down on the passenger seat. Sam is sitting in the back seat and of course, Dean is the driver, grinning at him. Though, Castiel is able to notice Dean's nervousness. Hell, he is nervous as well. After all, this whole thing could also backfire. But he doesn't want to think about this. The plan is certain and now it's too late for any misgivings.

 

They drop Sam off at Missouri's house, who already waited for them. She made them some sandwiches for the drive. Dean takes Sam aside to talk with him for a moment, probably to tell him the same thing Lucifer told Castiel. Cas can't help but to start smiling softly at that thought – it's a big brother thing.

 

When Dean and Sam come over to Cas and Missouri, Cas and Dean farewell Sam and Missouri together. Missouri is smiling reassuringly at them and Cas has the feeling again that they're doing the right thing. Sam doesn't seem to be worried, at all. Castiel pushes his own worries to the back of his mind as best he can, when Dean and he are getting into the Impala again. They're waving Sam and Missouri goodbye one last time, who wave back at them with big smiles on their faces.

 

Dean starts the engine, and they hit the road. _Here we go,_ Cas thinks and takes Dean's hand. 

 


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another freakishly long chapter :)
> 
> And I have the feeling that you're going to like it :D
> 
> ~ KC

 As time goes by, Castiel's nervousness fades more and more, and he thinks so does Dean's nervousness as well. He's relieved about this, and he's sure that the drive is actually great fun is playing a part in contributing to it. Dean and he are holding hands, and Cas knows that Dean is happy to be able to drive his baby for a long time again. The green-eyed boy is speeding, but Cas just returns the grin Dean flashes him, without mentioning it.

 

It's Sunday and there aren't a lot of other cars on the road besides the Impala. Neither Cas nor Dean minds it. They're not even paying it too much attention. Cas is looking at Dean, who's talking at the moment. Dean talks for at least half an hour and only about the Impala, totally gushing over the car and speaking without pausing for breath. Eventually, Dean realizes what he's doing and falls silent, biting his lip.

 

“Sorry,” he says quietly. “You could have stopped me, if I was getting on your nerves.”

 

“But you weren't getting on my nerves,” Cas says, smiling softly at the green-eyed boy.

 

_Honestly, is there something more beautiful than a person, who's talking about something they're absolutely passionate about?_

 

Dean darts a glance at him before quickly looking at the road again – his cheeks are slowly but surely turning red. Cas starts to blush himself. _Fucking hell._ Has he just said that out loud? Apparently yes, he _did_ say it out loud, and he's understanding that from Dean's next words.

 

“Just for the record, when _you_ are talking about something you're absolutely passionate about – like your favorite band for example – you're really beautiful then, too. But you're always gorgeous, so it makes no difference really.” A smirk is gracing Dean's lips as he shrugs casually.

 

Cas just can't help it, his blush deepens, and he looks out of the window, shaking his head. He didn't mean to say this thought out loud, but now that he heard Dean's response to it, he can't find it in him to regret his little carelessness. A bright feeling is tingling right beneath his skin – just as always when Dean is flirting with him, or simply complementing him.

 

They drive for a few hours, just talking and listening to music. From time to time Dean turns up the volume of the radio and sings along to a song, making Cas laugh and look at him with pure adoration in his heart.

 

Around noon, they stop in a sleepy little town and find a small diner that's furnished in the style of the fifties. An elderly, somewhat grouchy woman takes their order. They are the only guests at the moment, and Cas and Dean look at each other with raised eyebrows. But their burgers are delicious nonetheless, so neither of them takes it into his head to start complaining. While Cas is using the restroom, Dean is paying for their food – he insisted on it. When Cas washes his hands, the green-eyed boy enters the restroom as well, telling him he wants to top up the car. But Castiel only listens with half an ear. In that very moment he's realizing they've never been alone for so long.

 

He waits for Dean at the car – who's paying for the fuel – leaning against it and chewing on the inside of his cheek. All of a sudden, his nervousness is back.

 

“Everything okay?”

 

Cas looks up and sees Dean standing in front of him. The green-eyed boy returns his look questioningly. Cas doesn't know what to say and Dean steps closer, putting a hand on Cas' cheek. He covers that hand with his own, leaning into Dean's touch.

 

“What's wrong?” Dean asks quietly.

 

Cas shrugs his shoulders halfheartedly. “I don't know. It's just... _a little overwhelming,_ I guess.” He huffs a small breath.

 

Dean presses his eyebrows together. “What's overwhelming?”

 

“That it's really just the two of us.”

 

Dean nods, understanding what he means, but a smile lights up his face. “But it's also greatly _enjoyable_ , right?”

 

Cas returns Dean's smile. “Yes, it is,” he says quietly, and they share a brief kiss before they get into the car again. He is still nervous, but it's okay. And the more they come closer to Lawrence, the more he notices Dean's own tension.

 

When they arrive in Lawrence, Dean starts to drive slower and slower and eventually, he just parks by the side of the road somewhere. Cas looks at him. Dean is clutching the steering wheel with both hands and is just staring dead ahead – his eyes are glassy and he's clearly miles away.

 

As gently as possible Cas reaches for Dean's hands, and the green-eyed boy relinquishes his grip so Cas is able to take his hands into his. Reluctantly, Dean looks at him.

 

“It's okay, if you've changed your mind. We don't have to do this,” Castiel says.

 

But Dean starts shaking his head, when Cas hasn't even finished speaking. “No, I haven't changed my mind. I'm just... really nervous.” Dean chuckles shakily, trying to make light of the situation, but it seems as if it stuck in his throat.

 

Cas tilts his head. “Being nervous is not a bad thing,” he tells Dean, wanting the green-eyed boy to calm down again. “Do you need some more time?”

 

Dean shakes his head again. “No, I want to get it over with.”

 

He nods, giving Dean's hand a reassuring squeeze. They set off again, but Dean doesn't drive to the cemetery. He parks again by the side of the road, though this time in front of a residential house in a quiet neighborhood. Cas knows right away that this is the old house of the Winchester's, simply because of the grave expression on Dean's face.

 

“They've rebuilt it,” Dean says in a hushed tone. Even though they're sitting right next to each other, Cas almost didn't hear him.

 

Dean swallows, and Castiel can't even imagine how hard this has to be for the green-eyed boy – all those memories that have to overwhelm Dean right now. He takes Dean's hand again, loosely intertwining their fingers, without saying something. Dean tenses up when the front door opens, and a woman leaves the house. She's holding a little boy in her arms and a little girl is walking right behind her. She closes and locks the door behind them, and the small family walks down the street; Cas and Dean look after them. The girl is talking, and the woman is smiling widely at her. Then, they disappear from their sight, when they turn the corner at the end of the street.

 

Dean licks his lips and turns his head to Cas. A strange light is shining in his green eyes. “I didn't even think about the possibility that people could be living here again.”

 

Something is tugging at Cas' heart strings, hearing these words. “Do you mind?” he asks cautiously.

 

Dean looks down the street, drawing circles on Cas' hand with his thumb. A small smile flickers across his face. “No, I don't mind. They seemed _happy._ ”

 

Cas starts to smile as well. “You do have happy memories here, right?”

 

“Yes. A lot actually, but I have a hard time thinking about them, because it still hurts,” Dean admits.

 

“I know,” Cas says, being able to understand Dean completely. “But you should hold on to these happy memories, because they're all you have of your mom.”

 

Dean nods, taking a deep breath. “I think I'm ready to visit her.”

 

They drive to the cemetery, parking in front of it, but Dean needs another half hour until he's able to get out of the car. Cas doesn't push him and just waits patiently until Dean is ready. He follows Dean to the entrance of the cemetery, who stopped before the wrought iron gate. Cas pushes it open when Dean doesn't move, but he waits for Dean to make the first step. They both ignore the slight creak of the hinges.

 

Besides them, there are only two more people at the cemetery – two elderly women who are probably visiting their late husbands ( _or late wives; you never know,_ Cas thinks). Dean and he walk past a number of gravestones, and Dean's grip on Castiel's hand tightens more and more. Dean doesn't know exactly where his mother's grave is, so they have a look at every tombstone they're passing and Dean cringes every time before he reads the name on it. Cas can't think of any comforting words he could tell Dean.

 

Suddenly, Dean stops dead in his tracks and stares at a gravestone a few meters away from them. Cas looks at him. “What is it?”

 

Dean just keeps staring at the grave, biting his lip. Cas steps in front of him, framing Dean's face with his hands. “What is it?” he asks again.

 

“I remember this part of the cemetery,” Dean whispers. “Over there is my mom's grave.”

 

Cas has a look over his shoulder before he looks at Dean again. “We don't have to do this.”

 

Dean returns his look with a grim but resolute expression in his eyes. “We're here. I have to do this now. I can't just turn around and leave without seeing it through.”

 

Castiel nods. After all, it's Dean's decision.

 

Slowly, they walk over to the grave and Dean takes Cas' hand again. It's a modest grey tombstone with a modest inscription. But it has a calming effect on Castiel.

 

“ _Mary_ is a beautiful name,” he says quietly, squeezing Dean's hand. The green-eyed boy gives him a weak smile before he lets go of his hand and kneels down. Cas puts his hands into the pockets of his trenchcoat.

 

“Hey, mom,” Dean says softly. “I'm sorry it took me so long to get here. I've missed you.” He rubs his eyes, and Cas kneels down next to him, putting his hand on Dean's shoulder. Dean turns his head to be able to look him in the eye. Cas is trying to look as reassuringly as possible at the green-eyed boy.

 

Dean looks back at the gravestone, pressing his lips together. He looks at the ground for a few moments, then he looks back up again and there's another smile, gracing his lips ever so slightly. “Mom. This is Castiel.”

 

Cas stares at Dean. He's sure his eyes are almost bulging out of his head – at least, it feels like it – and his mouth is hanging open. _What is Dean doing?_

 

Dean looks at Cas again. “He's very special to me, and at least this way you get to meet him. I'm sorry that it is the way it just is, and I'd do anything to change it.” Dean's voice starts to break, and once again there's an ache in Cas' chest.

 

“But – although I absolutely hate myself for even thinking that – I wouldn't have met this boy next to me, if things had been different.”

 

Cas swallows, hard, opening his mouth but he doesn't know what to say. He doesn't even know what to feel, or what to think. His mind is completely blank.

 

All of a sudden, Dean is staring at him, a twinge of panic across his face. “We didn't bring something. No flowers, or so,” he mouths.

 

Thank god, Cas' brain starts to function again. He squeezes Dean's shoulder, smiling softly at him. “You're here. What more could your mom want?”

 

Dean relaxes again, though there are still some tears in his eyes. But he's returning Castiel's smile. “You're probably right.”

 

They stay for a while, but they don't speak again. At some point, Dean gets up slowly and Cas does the same. Dean reaches his hand out, touching the stone with his fingertips and breathing hard. “Bye, mom. There doesn't go a day by without me thinking of you.”

 

Cas' heart feels strangely heavy, when they walk back to the Impala. Dean is quiet and Cas doesn't say something as well, but his thoughts are racing in his head. When they're in front of the car, Cas stops walking. Dean looks at him quizzically, leaning against the hood of his baby. Cas steps closer until he's standing right in front of Dean and there are only a few inches between them. He touches Dean's hand that's laying on the hood, caressing it. A small smile is touching the corners of his mouth as his mind is calming down again, and he comes to a conclusion.

 

“Is something wrong?” Dean asks, forehead creased in confusion.

 

Cas shakes his head, not being able to stop smiling. “No, I just realized something.”

 

“And what?”

 

“What you've just told your mom – it's not true.”

 

Dean looks even more confused. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

 

Cas huffs a laugh, running his fingers through his hair. “You said you wouldn't have met me, if things had been different.”

 

“So?” Dean wonders, still confused. It's actually really adorable, but Cas figures that's not the point right now. He shrugs once. “I don't think that's true.”

 

Dean looks at him wonderingly. “What do you think?”

 

For a moment, Castiel is afraid of Dean laughing at him. But the fear disappears as quickly as it came, because he trusts Dean and he wants him to know what he thinks.

 

“I think... no, I _know_ that we would have met anyway, even if things had been different.”

 

Dean seems pretty surprised. “You sound so sure of that.”

 

“I've never been more sure of anything.” He puts a hand on Dean's chest, right over his heart. “We belong to each other, in one way or another. That's why we would have met anyway. Maybe we would have met sooner or later than in this lifetime, but eventually we would have found each other.”

 

Dean is staring at him in amazement. “That's what you just realized?”

 

Cas nods and his smile widens, although he doesn't know what Dean will say now. But the green-eyed boy doesn't say anything for now. Suddenly, Dean is gripping Cas' trenchcoat and pulling him flush against him, crushing their lips together. For a second, Cas goes rigid against Dean, gasping, but then he relaxes, though he's holding tightly on to Dean's shoulders. He doesn't really know what exactly is going on, nor did he expect Dean to react like this. He stiffens just a little when Dean's tongue is tracing along his bottom lip, but to his surprise he opens his mouth without thinking about it. Dean puts his hand on the back of Castiel's neck and their tongues curl around each other. The green-eyed boy is almost desperately kissing Cas, and all he can do is to kiss Dean back. They kiss until they're both feeling dizzy, and only when they stop, Cas realizes anxiety was dripping into his mind, but now it's already ceasing. He looks at Dean totally mesmerized.

 

_Huh._

 

They haven't kissed like _that_ before.

 

Dean returns his look, curiously and worriedly at the same time. “Was that okay?” he asks, his voice even deeper than usual.

 

Cas smiles a little breathlessly. “Yes, of course.”

 

They're still standing close and looking each other in the eye. Cas drops his gaze to Dean's lips before he kisses him again. It's much more gently now, the way Cas dips his tongue into Dean's mouth, but still so fucking good. Dean holds him tightly; one of his hand is on Cas' back and the other one is on Cas' cheek, and he traces Cas' jaw with his thumb. Castiel can feel Dean's smile against his lips before the green-eyed boy pulls away again. There's a golden sparkle in these green eyes, and Cas swears he forgets how to breathe for a moment.

 

“So, you're saying we are _soulmates_?” Dean asks.

 

Cas ponders over that for a few seconds. In his mind's eye he can see Charlie who'd be bursting with joy, if she could see and hear them right now. “Yes. We are soulmates. In one way...”

 

“...or another,” Dean completes Castiel's sentence and kisses him once again.

 

Castiel is certain he won't ever get tired of kissing Dean. He won't ever get tired of this beautiful green-eyed boy in general.

 

 

* * *

 

 

_We belong to each other, in one way or another._

 

Dean looks at the blue-eyed boy beside him. How could he ever ask for more?

 

A smile sneaks onto his lips and Cas smiles back at him. Dean knows he wants some more time with Cas. And after all, they're free for a few days. So what could they do?

 

Lawrence is already about two hours behind them – he didn't want to and simply wasn't able to stay there any longer. It was hard enough to do this, though he's really glad he did it. He's glad _they_ did it together, and he's glad Cas was there with him. He couldn't have done it without him.

 

“Do you already want to go home?” Dean asks.

 

Cas looks at him. “What else do you have in mind?”

 

At first, Dean wants to say he doesn't know yet and that he just wants to spend some more time with him. But then, he hits on the perfect idea. “We could visit Bobby, if you want to.”

 

Cas furrows his brow for a moment, thinking, but then his face lights up. “Oh, Bobby Singer? That old friend of your family?”

 

“Exactly.” Dean chuckles, and Cas takes his hand. “I'd love to.”

 

Dean flashes him a smile. “He lives in Sioux Falls. That's a couple more hours to drive.”

 

Cas bites the inside of his cheek. “You can't tell me that you aren't happy about that.”

 

He really can't deny that, so Dean doesn't even try it. It just feels so fucking good to drive his baby properly again. They tank up once more and arrive in Sioux Falls shortly before midnight. In order that Dean stays awake during the drive and doesn't get sleepy in any way, they keep talking. Dean wants to drive to Bobby without a break and he wants to spare the blue-eyed boy the necessity of sleeping in the car.

 

“Tell me about Bobby. Anything I need to know?” Cas asks, fake worried. Dean laughs at the grimace Cas is making. “Well, he's a very good friend of us. He and dad have known each other long before Sammy and I were even born,” he starts. “He owns a garage and...”

 

“...and that's why you know so much about cars,” Castiel says understandingly.

 

“Yep. Bobby has taught me everything I know. He's very smart, just like Missouri. He even speaks Japanese fluently.”

 

Impressed, Cas raises his eyebrows. “That's amazing. Did he teach you?”

 

Dean chuckles. “No, but Sam does know a few phrases in Japanese. I'm not really good at learning foreign languages,” he admits, feeling stupid all of a sudden.

 

“Same, actually,” Cas tells him.

 

Dean shoots him a surprised look, wondering if the blue-eyed boy is only telling him this to make him feel better. “Really?”

 

Cas nods. “Yeah. But, so what? Everyone's talents are placed differently. Just because you're not good at one thing doesn't mean you're not good at _anything._ Everyone is good at something.”

 

Dean starts to grin. “How do you always manage to say the right thing at the right time?"

 

Castiel scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Tell me more about Bobby,” he says, voice sounding endearingly sheepish.

 

“His wife died a long time ago, but he was able to get his act together and to deal with it in a better way than dad did. Therefore, he thought that he could help dad, but dad didn't want Bobby's help. I can only guess, of course, but I'm assuming it was because Bobby is holding so many memories of mom. After her death, they lost contact with each other. Well, dad broke off contact with Bobby, just like he did with everyone else, whether it were family or friends. He just left everyone and everything behind, and just disowned everybody. Of course, everyone in the family and all of their friends only reminded him of what he'd lost.” Dean realizes all at once that he's talking more about his father than about Bobby, but Cas doesn't seem to mind.

 

“Why did Bobby remind your dad of your mom so much?” Cas asks.

 

“Oh, Bobby has introduced them to each other. He's even babysat Sammy and me every now and then before mom's death, you know? But after her death he didn't hear anything from John for years.”

 

“That means you and Sam also didn't see Bobby _for years_?” Cas asks wonderingly and a little sadly. Dean gives his hand a squeeze. “Yes,” he says quietly.

 

“How did you connect with Bobby again?”

 

“Sammy and I found an old photograph of Bobby and us, and Sam was confused, since he didn't remember him at all. I explained to him who Bobby is – or was – and I decided to find him and reestablish contact. I made it, and then we were in touch with him at regular intervals. But dad refused to even just talk to Bobby for months. At some point though, they talked over the phone with each other every few weeks. Then, they started to meet in person again and they re-approached. When dad got a job in Sioux Falls, Bobby convinced him to move into his house somehow – I still have no idea how he's done that – but then dad got fired again and we moved again.”

 

“And that makes you sad,” Cas says.

 

“At the beginning, yes. Especially because Sam was so unhappy as well.”

 

Cas squints at him. “But now you're feeling content in the new town?”

 

“Well.” Dean grins. “There are certainly _some things_ that are making this town the best we've ever been at.”

 

“What things?” Cas wonders, seeming totally oblivious.

 

Dean huffs a small, nervous laugh. “To be honest, it all has something to do with _you._ ” He bites his lip, darting a glance at Cas. The blue-eyed boy is blushing but also smiling, and he kisses Dean on the cheek.

 

“You still miss Bobby though, right?” Cas asks softly.

 

Dean nods. “He's a very good friend and has always been there for us. But things changed after we've moved away.” He wrinkles his brow, and Cas does, too. “What do you mean by that?”

 

He shrugs. “I haven't talked much to Bobby in the last months. I didn't want to bother him with all the crap about dad.” He knows that Cas is looking at him, but Dean doesn't return his look, but rather keeps staring at the road.

 

“Don't you think that Bobby _wants_ to be bothered?”

 

Dean bites the inside of his cheek, shifting a bit. “Yeah, sure. But I didn't want him to worry. One time, Sam called Bobby and wanted him to get us. Bobby would have done it, he was so close to getting into his car and starting to drive. But I convinced him not to do it.”

 

“Why did you do that?” Cas wonders.

 

“Because it only would have made things even worse. Dad was already pissed off.”

 

“But now, we're on our way to Bobby. Will you tell him the truth about your father?”

 

Dean swallows, feeling the heat creeping up his neck. He runs his fingers through his hair. “Mh, actually I just wanted him to meet you. And I really miss him, so it'll be good to see him again,” he says quickly, certain that Cas probably didn't even understand the words he just said.

 

But the blue-eyed boy huffs a small, soft laugh, shaking his head. “Gosh, you're sappy.”

 

There's a tingling in Dean's stomach. “Shut up,” he mumbles, but he can't help it – he starts to grin. Before he says something like that again, he rather thinks about if he has told Cas everything relevant about Bobby so far, or if he has forgotten something. He thinks there's only one more thing Cas needs to know.

 

“Just so you know, Bobby always means well. Just in case he will come across rude or grumpy. It's just that he's always straight forward.”

 

Cas nods. “Okay,” he says, but Dean knows that he's nervous. Fuck, Dean is also nervous, since he has no idea how Bobby is going to react. But he doesn't want to cry off from the whole thing again.

 

For the rest of the drive, they talk a bit about music and then they arrive at Sioux Falls. Dean's nervousness keeps growing as he watches the headlights illuminate the familiar streets – it's dark outside by now.

 

He parks his baby next to Bobby's car and they get out of the Impala. Cas looks around curiously, but suddenly his face darkens. Dean walks over to him, taking his hand. “What's wrong?”

 

“I just... you didn't mention if Bobby knows that you're bi. I mean, what are we going to tell him?”

 

Dean shushes him, giving Cas a light peck on the lips. “Bobby _does_ know that I'm bisexual. I've told him.”

 

“Oh,” Cas says, relieved and embarrassed at the same time.

 

“Bobby will probably notice that we're more than just friends.”

 

Cas nods. Dean looks at him questioningly. “Is that alright?”

 

Cas nods again. “Yes. I mean, we _are_ more than just friends.” He chuckles slightly, and Dean just smiles at the blue-eyed boy, feeling warm all over.

 

They walk up to the front door and with one last nervous look at Castiel, Dean rings the bell. Just a few seconds later, Bobby answers the door with a look on his face that's expressing suspicion and annoyance at the same time. Dean is relieved that Bobby hasn't changed at all – his beard, the cap on his head; it's all the same. And Bobby's face lights up, when he realizes who's standing there in front of him.

 

“Dean!” he says surprised.

 

“Hey, Bobby.” Dean grins at him and they hug.

 

“You're the last person I'd expected to see today.”

 

“Well, we wanted to surprise you.”

 

Bobby stares at him, furrowing his brow. “Is Sam here as well? You two didn't run away, did you?”

 

Dean swallows, feeling somewhat uneasy. Then, Cas catches Bobby's eye. Until now, Bobby hasn't even noticed the other boy. “Who is that?” he asks, looking to and fro between them.

 

“That's Castiel,” Dean says a little too hastily. Bobby looks at him questioningly.

 

“Castiel Novak. Pleasure to meet you.” Cas takes the floor, reaching his hand out for Bobby to shake, who actually does it, even though he's astonished. But after another moment he says that they can come in, and they enter the house.

 

“To what do I owe the honor of this visit?” Bobby asks, while Dean and Cas are removing their shoes.

 

“Oh, um, I just wanted to see you,” Dean says. “We wondered if we could stay for a day or two.”

 

“Sure,” Bobby says, but he's still eyeing him quizzically.

 

Cas is standing awkwardly in the hallway, fidgeting with his trenchcoat a bit, but looking around curiously. Bobby's house is familiar to Dean, he knows it inside out. Castiel has never been here. Bobby is eyeing _him_ quizzically as well.

 

“Don't you have some stuff with you?” he asks, raising his eyebrows at Dean, who nods, though he's feeling a little confused. “Yeah, our bags are still in the car.”

 

“Well, then let's get them. Castiel, please, feel at home.” With that, Bobby leaves the house.

 

Dean and Cas shoot each other a quick look, both of them wide-eyed. Cas enters the living room a bit hesitantly, and after Dean put his shoes on again, he follows Bobby outside, who's already waiting at the car for him. He unlocks the trunk of the Impala, but Bobby makes no move to take the bags out of it. He's just staring at Dean, who sighs and leans against the side of the car. “What?”

 

“Who exactly is that boy?” Bobby asks straightforwardly.

 

Dean bites his lip. “What do you mean?” he asks as innocently as possible.

 

“I'm not an _idjit_ , Dean. I haven't heard anything really from you in the last months, and now you're standing before my door and on top of that with a boy? Don't even try to tell me that he's just a random boy.”

 

Guiltily, Dean looks at the ground. “Yeah, sorry about that,” he mutters.

 

“It's okay,” Bobby says, much more softer. “Now, tell me who he is.”

 

“He's my best friend,” Dean answers honestly.

 

Bobby returns his look and Dean can see the small smile hidden beneath his beard. “Your best friend, huh? That's what it's called now?”

 

Dean rolls his eyes, sighing again.

 

“Is _my best friend_ the new code word for _boyfriend?_ Or _soon to be boyfriend?_ ” Bobby asks mockingly.

 

Dean grimaces, shaking his head. “Cas and I aren't together.”

 

“You have a nickname for him?”

 

“It's just a shortened version of his name,” Dean says, trying to gain control of this conversation, but he's already blushing. “Everyone calls him _Cas_.”

 

“Sure.” Bobby rolls his eyes now, grabbing a bag and a backpack and starting to walk towards the house. Dean is more than a little confused. But then, Bobby turns around and there's a soft expression in his eyes. “Hey, Dean. I'm really glad you're here.”

 

Dean is glad that Bobby is glad about their visit, but still. _We may as well expect the worst,_ he thinks as he follows Bobby back to the house.

 

They stay at Bobby's place for about two days, and at the end of their visit Dean can say it was totally worth it and they made good progress.

 

When Dean and Bobby reenter the house, they find Cas in the living room, standing in front of one of Bobby's many shelves that's crammed full with books.

 

“Do you like reading?” Bobby asks, startling the blue-eyed boy a little bit, who apparently didn't hear them enter the room.

 

Cas nods. “Yes, I do.”

 

For a moment Bobby just stares at him, but then he starts smiling. “You can have a look around, if you want to. After you two got some sleep, of course. Dean's little brother Sam has spent many hours with my books. Dean on the other hand has spent the most time at my garage.”

 

Dean rolls his eyes behind Bobby's back. Cas saw it and starts to grin. Bobby says that it's time to go to bed now, and they follow him upstairs. Bobby keeps talking on the way.

 

“I rearranged some things a little. You know, an acquaintance of mine – Rufus – had sent me a lot of books and knickknacks. All this stuff is occupying the room Dean and Sam have shared, or that Sam has used when he's been here alone, now. But I've furnished a new guestroom.”

 

Dean looks at him, one eyebrow raised at him.

 

“What?” Bobby asks. “I've had a free weekend.”

 

Cas chuckles lowly behind them, and the grin on Bobby's face doesn't escape Dean's notice. They walk down the hallway and stop in front of the last door on the left. Bobby hands Cas his backpack and bag.

 

“Well, then good night. Don't wake me, unless there's an emergency. And with emergency I mean there's someone dying.”

 

Dean and Cas grin at each other as Bobby goes back downstairs.

 

“Well, then...” Cas says, and he has to yawn. He opens the door and enters the room. Dean follows right behind him, feeling tired as well, but he instantly walks against Cas, who stopped dead as soon as he entered the room. Dean wrinkles his forehead, looking at Castiel questioningly before he has a look around. There's a desk, a bookshelf and a closet. But of course, the bed is what catches Dean's eye immediately – _it's_ _a king-size bed._

 

Dean swallows and his eyes widen. He understands why Cas just froze. “Oh, um...,” he stutters, looking from the bed to Cas. “That's, um... I... I didn't know... I'm gonna... I'm gonna talk to Bobby. I can sleep on the couch...” He barely notices the smile that's tugging at the corners of Castiel's mouth. But suddenly the blue-eyed boy wraps his arms around Dean's neck, hugging him tightly, and Dean instantly stops rambling.

 

“You're the sweetest, do you know that?” Cas whispers, and Dean blushes. _What?_

 

He pulls away, in order to be able to look Cas in the eye. “What?” he asks aloud. Cas looks tired, but his blue eyes are shining – the ocean is sparkling and the waves are rolling idly.

 

“You're really sweet, but you don't have to sleep on the couch, Dean.”

 

Dean just looks at Cas for a long moment. “Are you sure about that?” he asks quietly. “Because we don't have to do this. _You_ don't have to do this.”

 

“Dean, stop,” Cas says just as quietly, putting a finger against Dean's lips before he puts his hand on his cheek. Dean does stop talking, especially because Cas is tracing his bottom lip with his thumb right now.

 

“I want to. I mean, it's just sleeping, right?” He looks at Dean insecurely, who cocks his head a little, returning Cas' look warmly. “Of course, Cas. Remember? We're going your pace.”

 

Dean sees that Castiel relaxes immediately – he even kisses Dean. And Dean deepens the kiss again, since it's feeling pretty perfect and Cas is _allowing_ it.

 

When they pull away, Cas is grinning at him and Dean grins back. God, he loves this boy and he'd do anything for him. Of course, it's okay that they're going Castiel's pace. Dean doesn't want to do anything Cas isn't ready to do.

 

They put their bags in a corner, getting their pajamas, toothbrushes and toothpaste out, and get ready for bed. Dean does notice that Cas is still nervous – fuck, he is nervous himself, because he doesn't want to do or to say the wrong thing and scare the blue-eyed boy.

 

Cas is standing in front of the bed (looking cute as ever in his loose blue sweatpants and black long-sleeved shirt), when Dean comes out of the bathroom. He steps up to him, so that he's standing right next to him.

 

“Are you really sure about this?” Dean asks.

 

Cas turns his head to him and he's biting his lip, though he nods nevertheless. “It's fine by me.”

 

“Okay,” Dean says quietly, giving Cas a little peck on the cheek.

 

They lie down, both on their backs and at a remove from one another, staring at the ceiling a little awkwardly. Suddenly, Cas bursts out in a fit of giggles, covering his eyes with his hands. Totally confused, Dean stares at him, propping himself up on one elbow, so he's facing Cas completely.

 

“What?” Dean wonders with a puzzled expression on his face. Cas looks at him, still giggling quietly, and he mirrors him briefly before he lies on his stomach. “I don't really know. It's just... god, I don't know. I mean, shouldn't we _relax_?”

 

Dean chuckles, being a bit awed by the blue-eyed boy, but somehow he's relieved that Cas is the one who said this. He nods, smiling at Castiel and scooting a little closer to him, so he can rake his fingers through Cas' hair. “Yeah, we should relax.”

 

Cas returns his smile, and Dean leans down and kisses him. Cas kisses him back, lightly putting a hand on Dean's waist. It's a soft kiss and Dean has to keep himself from deepening the kiss again, because he realizes that he wants more. And it'd be more than just awkward if he popped a boner right now.

 

He pulls away, a bit abruptly, and Cas looks at him questioningly. Dean smiles at him, though it feels strained. “We should sleep.”

 

Cas nods slowly, biting his lip, and for a moment it seems as if he wanted to say something, but he doesn't, and he looks insecure all over again. Dean feels bad – he didn't want to outface the blue-eyed boy. Now, Cas lies down properly, on his side and with his back to Dean, who sighs quietly and turns off the light on the nightstand. He reaches his hands out for Cas, carefully pulling him closer and wrapping his arms loosely around him. They're not pressed together, but Dean can still feel the body heat radiating off Cas. He presses a kiss to Castiel's neck, who swallows.

 

“Is this okay?” Dean whispers.

 

It takes Cas a moment to answer. “Yes, this is okay. Good night, Dean.”

 

“Good night, Cas.”

 

Surprisingly, Dean doesn't have any problems to fall asleep. Sure, he's driven basically the whole day and it's also been emotionally exhausting. But he thinks it has mostly something to do with the gorgeous blue-eyed boy in his arms.

 

When he wakes up the next day, he has to acknowledge that Castiel and he _are pressed together_ now. He's still holding Cas in his arms, but more tightly and his back is pressed against Dean's chest, and their legs are entangled. Dean's heart is beating violently against his ribs, but Castiel is still fast asleep. He lifts his head a little to be able to look at the clock on the wall – it's shortly after half past eight. Slowly but surely, he wakes up more and more, but he doesn't want to get up, not yet. It's just too awesome to be lying here with Castiel in his arms.

 

At some point, he has to pee, though. Dean groans quietly, cursing his bladder. As cautiously as possible, he gets up – he doesn't want to wake Cas. Thank god, the boy is sleeping like a log.

 

Dean shuffles into the bathroom and when he's done, back into the guestroom. He closes the door quietly and just stands there for a few minutes, looking at Castiel. Cas looks so _peaceful_ and _fragile_ in his sleep. Dean remembers that he's looked like that, when he's gotten drunk, has been unconscious and Dean's had to drive him home. He swallows. He doesn't want to think about that. But he does know that they have to continue their conversation from the forest, especially because their _relationship_ (even though, they aren't a couple, so they don't have a relationship) is developing.

 

Dean's lips start to form a smile. It's fucking great to wake up next to Castiel; that's just a fact. With one last look at the blue-eyed boy, he leaves the room again and goes downstairs, hoping that Bobby took care of breakfast.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Cas wakes up and the first thing he notices is that he's alone – Dean isn't there anymore. He rolls on his back, looking at the empty space beside him. He doesn't regret to share a bed with Dean, since it felt quite amazing to be held by the green-eyed boy and to fall asleep like that. A smile sneaks on his lips, but it disappears again right away.

 

It was different when they lied in bed and kissed. It was great as always, of course, to kiss Dean. But Castiel does know that Dean wants _more_. He bites the inside of his cheek. Cas knows that it's going to result in that someday, but he doesn't know if he's ready for that. Sure, Dean said that they're going Cas' pace, but what if they reached the point, when it won't be enough for Dean anymore? After all, he's an 18-year-old boy.

 

Something's stinging in the pit of his stomach. He knows he's said it's Dean's decision if he wants to stay with him, or not. But what if Dean _actually_ left? What if Dean decided that he indeed doesn't want Cas anymore? What if Cas weren't able to give Dean what he wants? What if that what Cas is giving Dean were not enough for the green-eyed boy?

 

Cas starts to worry and his stomach starts to tense up more and more. But all of a sudden, there's his voice of reason, resonating loudly inside of him. It does this all too rarely, if he thinks about it, but now it's getting its timing right – Castiel was close to an anxiety attack.

 

 _Stop worrying,_ fucking shit. _You don't know any of that for sure. How about you just fucking_ talk _to Dean about all of this?_

 

He wonders whether or not it's a good thing that the voice is speaking so aggressively. Cas decides that it's a good thing, since he needs to be pushed a little. And yes, Dean and he really need to talk again, no matter how difficult this may be for Cas.

 

He gets up, goes to the bathroom and gets dressed before he goes downstairs – he's wearing dark jeans and a light red sweater. By now, it's 10:08 am. He finds Bobby in the living room, sitting behind a desk and reading a big book. But there's no trace of Dean.

 

Bobby looks up when Castiel enters the room. “Morning.”

 

“Morning. Where's Dean?” Cas asks.

 

Bobby chuckles, pointing at the window. “At the garage, fixing a car.”

 

Castiel smiles at that. “That figures.”

 

“Are you hungry? Take whatever you want.” Bobby gestures to the kitchen.

 

Cas nods. “Thank you.”

 

He enters the kitchen and decides for cereals. Cas sits down at the kitchen table, noticing that Bobby is eyeing him, but he lets him eat in peace. Though, as soon as Cas is done eating, Bobby asks if they could have a talk. Nervously, Cas nods and sits down on the couch in the living room, facing Bobby, who returns his look friendly and a little curiously.

 

“So, you and Dean are friends?” he starts.

 

And Cas already doesn't know what to say to that. He decides to nod simply. Bobby raises an eyebrow at him.

 

“Dean said you're his best friend.”

 

Cas nods again, still not knowing what he's supposed to say. “Yeah, we are best friends.”

 

“That may be true, but you're also more than that. Don't even try to deny it. It's pretty obvious.”

 

“Well, then... I won't deny it,” Castiel says slowly. “But Dean and I aren't a couple. We're not together.”

 

“Still, Dean brought you here, so I could meet you.”

 

“He told you that?” Cas asks surprised.

 

Bobby huffs a laugh, shaking his head. “He didn't have to tell me anything.”

 

“Oh,” Cas mutters under his breath, feeling a little stupid. His cheeks redden.

 

“He treats you well, right?” Bobby asks all of a sudden, shooting him a stern look.

 

For a few seconds, Cas just contemplates if Bobby shouldn't be asking the other way around, wrinkling his forehead, before he answers the question. “Yes, he does,” he says. “Dean is a good person.”

 

“And you must be a very special person,” Bobby states, and there's the curiosity back in his eyes.

 

Cas stares at Bobby, mouth hanging open. “I'm... I'm not... I'm really not...,” he stutters.

 

Bobby chuckles. “You have to be special. Dean has never wanted me to meet someone, be it girl or boy. And now, here you are.”

 

Cas swallows, and the only thing that comes to his mind is to change the topic. “You don't mind, right?”

 

Bobby returns his look. “Dean's bisexuality? No, of course not.”

 

Castiel bites his lip briefly. “I'm glad he told you.”

 

“Oh, he didn't _tell_ me.” Bobby scoffs.

 

Cas is a little confused, pressing his eyebrows together and cocking his head. “Then, how do you know?”

 

Bobby shrugs. “One day, I enter the garage, completely unsuspecting, and there he is, making out with a boy from his school.” He chuckles at the memory, and Cas forces himself to smile at Bobby before he looks down at his hands.

 

He wonders why Dean didn't tell him about that, but then again – maybe he didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable? Cas doesn't know, but suddenly he's wondering if Dean wants to make out with _him,_ and what that would mean. His heart starts to beat faster and he cringes, when Bobby's phone starts to ring.

 

“Excuse me,” Bobby says, thankfully not noticing Castiel's inner turmoil and just answering the call. He leaves the room and Cas keeps sitting on the couch, since he doesn't know what else he's supposed to do.

 

Though, only two minutes later, Dean enters the room, wearing a blue coverall that's daubed with oil and his work boots. There's soil on his nose, but he's looking good – he's looking _hot._ His hair is messy and he's grinning at Castiel.

 

“Morning, sunshine,” Dean says, walking over to him. Cas gets up and he can't help it, he starts to smile. “Good morning.”

 

Dean reaches his hands out for him, but Cas hesitates, scrunching up his nose.

 

“What?” Dean asks.

 

Cas points at him. “Have you looked at yourself? You're dirty.”

 

Dean looks down at himself, pouting. Cas chuckles, shaking his head. “Mh, never mind,” he says quietly, framing Dean's face with his hands and kissing him. Dean sighs happily, kissing him back.

 

“Did you sleep well?” Dean asks against Cas' lips, who nods. “Yes. Did you?”

 

Dean kisses him. “Haven't slept this good for weeks,” he mumbles.

  
Cas runs his fingers through Dean's hair, messing it up even more, and he's smiling softly at the green-eyed boy. “Bobby said you're working at the garage?”

 

Dean nods and his eyes light up. He takes Castiel's hand, pulling him along. “Come on. I'll show you.”

 

Cas starts to grin – Dean is just so cute and beautiful – and follows him out of the house and into the garage that's adjacent to Bobby's house. Dean shows him the car he's working on, immediately starting to talk about what he's been doing this morning so far and what he still has to do in order for it to work flawlessly again. Castiel doesn't really listen to the green-eyed boy (he doesn't understand what he's talking about) and has a look around instead. He promptly starts to wonder where Dean has made out with the other boy. It's making Cas weirdly sad, even though he's already expected Dean to have more experiences with others than him. And he's jealous, even though that's really stupid.

 

“Hey,” Dean says, taking his hand. Cas looks at him – he didn't realize how much he was lost in thought.

 

“Are you okay?” Dean asks, sounding a bit worried.

 

Cas nods. “Yeah, I'm okay,” he says. He looks at Dean and then at his lips, and all at once he's kissing the green-eyed boy.

 

Dean is a little taken by surprise, but he kisses him back right away. Cas rakes his fingers through Dean's hair, almost kissing him downright desperately, because he's suddenly realizing that he _wants_ to give Dean everything.

 

But the question is – _is he able to do that?_

 

Castiel's heart is beating nothing less than painfully fast, as he dips his tongue into Dean's mouth. That is some progress at least, right? – that he could get used to kissing Dean like this. But everything else...

 

He pulls away and he sees the questioning look in Dean's eyes, but there's also lust, just like when they were lying in bed last night. And Cas knows that he _wants_ to be able to give Dean everything, but _he isn't able to do that._ At least, not at the moment.

 

“Why didn't you tell me how Bobby's found out you're bi?” Cas hears himself asking before he can stop himself.

 

Dean swallows and hangs his head, rubbing his neck. “Bobby told you?”

 

Cas puts his hand under Dean's chin, lifting his head. “Yes, he did.”

 

“I'm sorry,” Dean says quietly, looking Cas in the eye and stroking his cheek with his fingers. “I didn't want you to feel bad. But I should have told you. I'm sorry I wasn't completely honest with you.”

 

Castiel nods slowly, returning Dean's look and seeing the sincerity in these green, green eyes.

 

“Just for the record,” Dean says, “that guy was just a random boy from my old school. He didn't mean something to me. _You_ mean something to me, far more than you know.”

 

They look at each other for about five seconds, then Cas says, “I do know about that. But what this boy could have meant to you isn't what's bothering me.”

 

Dean squints at him a bit, pulling him closer. “What's bothering you, then?”

 

Cas puts his hands on Dean's chest, sighing. He bites his lip, not knowing how to put his thoughts into words to say out loud.

 

“Is it the making out?” Dean asks.

 

Castiel opens his mouth, but there are still no words coming out of him. He looks at the ground. Now, it's Dean who puts his hand under Cas' chin and lifts his head, so they look each other in the eye again.

 

“It's fine, Cas. Just... can we talk about this in peace?”

 

“Yes, I think that's a good idea,” Cas says quietly, relieved and grateful that Dean doesn't seem to be mad at him one bit.

 

“Tomorrow? Bobby has to do some things, so he's busy, meaning we could seclude ourselves a little,” Dean suggests.

 

Cas thinks about that for a moment, then he nods. “That sounds like a plan.”

 

The rest of the day, Dean continues working on the car and finishes repairing it. Cas spends the rest of the day with Bobby's books, pretending to be able to ignore his nervousness.

 

Before dinner Dean goes upstairs to shower and to get clean properly. Bobby and Cas stay downstairs, and they are sitting in the living room together again. Cas looked after Dean, when the green-eyed boy left the room, and it didn't escape Bobby's notice.

 

“What does he mean to you, Castiel?”

 

Cas looks at Bobby, and for whatever reason he has the feeling he can really trust him – maybe because he reminds him of Missouri. Dean's been right; the two have a lot in common.

 

“I like him,” he says. “I like him a lot.”

 

Bobby nods. “I can see that. It's just... Dean is a good boy. He has rough edges, just like everybody else. But all in all, he is a good person. I like you, Castiel. And all I'm asking you to do is to treat him well, too.”

 

Cas is surprised by Bobby's words. He swallows. “I'm trying my best,” he says, although he feels the doubts in his heart like razor blades.

 

“That's good. You know, I don't hear from Dean as much as I'd like to, because he doesn't want to bother me. All the more I am delighted to have him here again, even though it's only for a little while – and also together with you.” He smiles at Castiel, who smiles sheepishly back at him.

 

“Have you met John?” Bobby asks.

 

Cas looks at him a little questioningly. “No, I haven't. I don't think Dean wants me to.”

 

Bobby shrugs. “Dean is a lot like his dad. But he's also a lot different from John. He's certainly a much better person than his father. And I'm glad to know he's in good hands now. I hope you're more successful than I've been. I wanted to keep an eye on John, but I wasn't able to stop him from starting to drink again.” Bobby returns his look a little regretfully.

 

Cas stares at Bobby, knowing exactly what he means, but all these words are swirling around in his head now, and he feels at a loss. He's fucked up, and how is he supposed to fight Dean's demons, if he isn't even able to fight his own demons properly, when he's all alone? He's only managing to keep his demons at bay, because of the green-eyed boy.

 

When Dean comes downstairs, they have dinner together, and Bobby wants to know more about Castiel and his life. At first, Cas almost chokes on the potato mash, worrying about what the hell he should tell Bobby. But then he looks at Dean and relaxes again, scolding himself in his mind, because there's more to him than his fucked up past. So, he tells Bobby a bit about his big brother, and about his work at Missouri's shop and Pamela's diner. Bobby listens carefully to him and Castiel tries not to look at Dean too often, since it's kind of distracting. He doesn't want to furnish Bobby a fit occasion to make a comment about Dean and him.

 

After dinner, they watch some TV together, but since Bobby has a lot to do tomorrow, they go to bed early. Cas and Dean get ready for bed just like the night before, but this time Cas is already sitting in bed, when Dean comes out of the bathroom. He puts the book he skimmed through, after he texted Lucifer, on the nightstand. He thinks that his brother doesn't worry as much about him anymore as he did before this trip started. Cas told him right away that they're going to visit an old friend of Dean, so Lucifer doesn't have to worry so much. He knows that Dean told Sam and Missouri where they are and what they're doing.

 

Dean sits down next to him, smiling softly at him. Cas smiles back at him, feeling nervous all over again.

 

“We talk tomorrow, okay?” Dean says, and Cas just nods, exhaling slowly to calm himself down.

 

“And no matter what you're going to tell me, it won't change anything,” Dean tells him.

 

Cas nods again, not trusting his voice, and not being so sure about this like Dean seems to be. But when they're properly lying down, and Dean pulls him closer and wraps his arms around him again, Castiel's nervousness starts to fade once again. His breathing is even and he smiles, when Dean presses a soft kiss to his neck. Cas just has to acknowledge that sharing a bed with the green-eyed boy is pretty awesome. He had thought that it would be a much bigger problem for him to be so close to Dean, but he wanted to try it, at least. And now as he's falling asleep, he realizes it's actually _calming him down._

 

Yesterday, he woke up when Dean was already up, but today he wakes and Dean is still there. At first, Cas stiffens a bit, but then he relaxes again, because this is _Dean_ , after all. They're even closer than they were when he fell asleep. Dean is pressed right against him and one of Dean's legs is between Castiel's legs. He gulps, and his heart starts to beat frantically, when he suddenly realizes _that Dean is half-hard._

 

He swallows again, trying to calm his racing heart down and trying not to freak out. As quickly and quietly as ever he can, he gets up, desperately wanting not to wake the green-eyed boy. And thankfully, Dean doesn't wake up. Castiel hurries into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He grabs the sink with both hands, supporting himself on it. His eyes are closed and he's trying to focus on his breathing. Cas doesn't want to have an anxiety attack. He's standing like this for a few minutes before he has the courage to open his eyes again. His reflection stares back at him, looking tired and pasty. Castiel sighs.

 

 _Yeah, they definitely need to talk,_ he thinks. It's just that he is immensely scared of what Dean might think or say.

 

He gets dressed quietly and goes downstairs, meeting Bobby in the kitchen who tells him that he's going to be away on business for a few hours, because he has to see different people in different towns. Cas nods along to Bobby's words, and after Bobby left, he makes coffee and sits down at the kitchen table. He isn't really hungry and he's a little lost in thought, though he instantly looks up, when Dean enters the room.

 

“Morning,” Dean says, smiling and briefly running his fingers through Castiel's hair as he walks by him to get a cup of coffee as well. “How long you're up already?”

 

“Not for long,” Cas answers quietly.

 

Dean looks at him questioningly. “Did Bobby already leave?”

 

“A few minutes ago.” Cas nods.

 

“Did you already have breakfast?” Dean asks, sitting down next to Castiel, who simply shakes his head.

 

The green-eyed boy wrinkles his forehead slightly, nudging Cas' leg with his knee. “You okay?”

 

Cas returns his look, biting his lip and feeling strangely tired. “I don't know.”

 

“We don't have to talk today, if it's too much for you. If you're not in the right state of mind for it.”

 

Cas shakes his head again. “No, I think we should talk. We need to talk,” he says quietly, and Dean nods. “Okay. But first, breakfast.”

 

Dean fixes them two omelets with ham and cheese, and they eat in silence. Cas keeps staring out of the window, but Dean hooks his right ankle with Castiel's left ankle. He allows it, though his heartbeat is accelerating once again.

 

They also clean up the kitchen in silence, and then Dean takes Cas' hand and they go upstairs into their room and sit down on the bed. Cas lets go of Dean's hand and sits down a fair way off the green-eyed boy. Dean doesn't mention it and he also doesn't scoot closer. Castiel sits cross-legged in the middle of the bed and is staring at his hands in his lap; Dean leans against the headboard of the bed, a pillow in his back, and he's staring at Cas.

 

“So, where do we start?” Cas asks, after a few minutes of more silence. He's not looking at Dean, who answers the question with a question. “Where do you want to start?”

 

Cas shrugs. “I don't know.”

 

“Maybe we should start with the question why making out is bothering you. I mean, I know _why_ but maybe we should talk about it,” Dean says slowly.

 

Cas swallows, turning around to Dean, who's looking at him with a crooked smile now. “I've talked to Bobby again,” he tells Dean.

 

“About?”

 

“You,” Cas says, and he himself is able to hear the sadness in his voice, and also his insecurity. Though, before Dean is able to say something, Cas keeps talking. “He asked me to treat you well, and I said I'm trying my best, but I'm not so sure about that. I can't give you _everything_.”

 

“So, what are you saying?” Dean asks, pressing his eyebrows together and leaning forward. Apparently, he knows right away what Castiel is talking about. “That this thing between us won't work, that I won't want you, because you're not ready to do it with me?”

 

“Yes?” Cas says, confused and insecure. He starts to fiddle with the hem of his sweater. Now, Dean _does_ scoot closer until he's sitting right next to Castiel. _“No,”_ the green-eyed boy says sternly. “That's not true.”

 

Cas isn't able to maintain eye contact. He doesn't want to see the disappointment in Dean's eyes. “You know what happened to me. You know I was only 13. I already liked boys, but I didn't have any experience with boys. And after it, I've kissed one boy and it was a catastrophe, since I had a panic attack and ran away.”

 

“You didn't have a panic attack, when we've kissed. What does that mean?” Dean wonders out loud.

 

Cas shrugs once. “I don't know. Maybe it's a good thing.”

 

“It sounds like a good thing,” Dean says softly, and when Cas looks up, he sees a small smile playing on Dean's lips. Cas huffs a breath, scratching his cheek. “It's just... I want to give you everything, and I trust you. But you've already had... experiences and might expect something and I can't...”

 

Dean shushes him. “Cas. Cas, stop. Stop it. I'm not expecting anything, okay? I know how hard this all is for you. I know that. But this thing that we have isn't about sex. If it were, you'd just be another experience for me. But you aren't, because what we have is so much more. I've never been so into another person. And yes, I've slept with a few people, but that's all. It's never been more than just sex, and I've never even wanted more. But with you, everything is different.”

 

Castiel looks at him sadly. “I'm not that special.” He knows, when there are feelings involved, people tend to glorify the other person, and what if that's what Dean is doing?

 

“Are you kidding me, Cas?” Dean says. “You're the most extraordinary person I've ever met.”

 

Cas starts to shake his head, but suddenly Dean is kissing him – urgently at first and then more gently. Cas kisses him back a little hesitantly. He doesn't want to get his hopes up too high, after all.

 

“You know,” Dean says, after they stopped kissing. “I'd be lying if I said I don't think about you like _that._ Or if I said I don't want to make out with you, or to sleep with you. But I've already told you that we're going your pace. I never want to do something you're not ready to do. Yes, I really, _really_ want to do these things with you, but more than anything I want you to feel comfortable, so you're able to enjoy it.”

 

Cas feels weirdly fuzzy inside, but at the same time he wonders how he can actually deserve this beautiful green-eyed boy. “Is this really enough for you?”

 

“Of course it is enough,” Dean says, almost matter-of-factly. “ _You_ are enough for me, Cas. I don't want anyone else.”

 

Castiel swallows, and then he nods slowly, telling himself that it's Dean's decision. “So, you won't leave?” he asks.

 

“Never,” Dean says and kisses him again. “You're ready when you're ready, and then you just let me know. But remember, small steps.”

 

Cas lets out the breath he was unintentionally holding, and he smiles at Dean, who immediately smiles back at him. “Small steps,” he agrees, leaning against the green-eyed boy. Dean presses a kiss to his head. “Can I ask you something?”

 

Cas bites his lip. “Sure.”

 

“It's just something that's been on my mind for a while. You don't have to answer it. Actually, there are two questions.”

 

“Ask away,” Cas says, taking Dean's hand into his.

 

“How come that the men were never charged?” Dean asks quietly.

 

Castiel takes a deep breath, but he does answer the question. “I was able to identify them. The case was clear, almost ridiculously easy. Or it would have been clear, and almost ridiculously easy. But as is often the case when it comes to rape, people tend to blame the victims rather than the rapists. And it's even worse, when a gay person gets raped.” He bites his lip, way too hard, but Dean stops him from doing so by pulling his bottom lip away from his teeth.

 

“What do you mean?” the green-eyed boy asks.

 

“I've read a lot. It's just an example, but a gay girl got raped and her rapist didn't have to go to jail, because he said _he only tried to turn her straight, so she would be accepted by her parents._ ”

 

Dean returns his look, angrily and sadly, but he doesn't say something.

 

“They said it wasn't considered rape, because I'm gay,” Cas practically whispers.

 

“No,” Dean says in utter disbelief.

 

Cas scoffs, shrugging his shoulders halfheartedly. “Yes.”

 

“Who said that?” Dean wants to know.

 

“My dad, my _friends,_ police officers... at some point, the charge was simply dropped.”

 

“But still, you were only 13 years old. Isn't it considered child abduction, or so?”

 

Cas sighs heavily. “It was a small town. 90% of the people were catholic, and somehow everyone was convinced it was my fault.”

 

“It wasn't,” Dean says, squeezing Castiel's hand.

 

“You know, I was only 13. I mean, what kind of teenager isn't affected by society? I started to believe there's something wrong with me, and that it was indeed my fault. Those thoughts are still haunting me today. But yeah, the charge was dropped eventually, also at my father's prodding. The police officer, who was in charge, was a middle-aged man and he had a definite opinion on homosexuals, just like my dad.” He leans more against Dean, laying his head on Dean's shoulder. “What's your other question?”

 

Dean hesitates noticeable.

 

“Don't hesitate to ask me. It's fine,” Cas says.

 

“Okay. Why did you move?”

 

“People laughed at me. I got bullied. Everything reminded me of what's happened to me. And that was just the icing on the cake. I simply wasn't able to stay there. To top it all, I was ruining my dad's and my family's reputation with _my situation_. My therapist said it'd be best, if we moved and started over somewhere else.”

 

“You have a therapist?”

 

“I had one at my old town. And another one at the new town. But I stopped going there, because it was of no use.”

 

“I'm sorry, Cas.”

 

“Please, don't,” Cas whispers, closing his eyes and hiding his face in the crook of Dean's neck. “Please, don't apologize. You really don't have to. You're one of the things that are making me feel better.”

 

“Then, I'm sorry for apologizing,” Dean says softly. “That's all I want, Cas – to make you feel better.”

 

Cas sighs, relieved, though he's feeling a bit stupid for being so fucking nervous. After all, this is _Dean_ and slowly but surely, Castiel starts to believe the green-eyed boy that he isn't going to leave. As much as he's told Dean about his past by now, Cas hasn't told anyone. _And Dean is still there, despite everything he knows about Castiel and his past now._

 

Tonight, they have a farewell dinner together with Bobby, and they order pizza, since it's their last night at Bobby's house. They watch a baseball game together, and Cas doesn't care about it, at all. He's only looking at Dean – they're holding hands and neither of them minds that Bobby is right there, but he also doesn't seem to mind it – and the more he stares at the green-eyed boy now, the more he thinks, _fucking hell, I do love him._

 

The next morning, they pack their bags and then they're already saying goodbye to Bobby, who hugs them both. He tells Dean to drive carefully. Cas knows that Dean's sad to leave this place once again – he himself will miss it and also Bobby.

 

They're driving for a while already, holding hands and listening to music, when Cas begins to speak. “I'm glad you took me there, and introduced me to Bobby.”

 

Dean starts to smile. “I'm glad we were there, too.” He darts a glance at Castiel, biting his lip.

 

Cas looks at him questioningly. “What?” he asks, being certain that Dean wants to say something.

 

“I have one more question,” Dean says slowly, and it's noticeable that he's really thinking about how to say what he wants to say. “”You know, we did a lot of talking, and I'm just wondering – what are we now?”

 

Castiel looks out of the window. That's a very good question, and Dean has every right to ask it. And it's true – they did a lot of talking by now, they even shared a bed, they kiss quite often and still not often enough, they both have feelings for one another... _so, what are they?_

 

A thought flashes through his mind, almost making him feel dizzy. He bites the inside of his cheek. Cas thinks he might be crazy – after all, this is a completely _crazy_ thought – but then he thinks, _ah fuck it._ Still, the words only hesitantly come out of his mouth. “Do you want to be my boyfriend?”

 

Dean turns his head so quickly to him, Cas is sure that he strained his neck. The green-eyed boy is so thunderstruck, they even almost veer off the road. “Are... are you sure? Because we really don't have to do this.”

 

But the more Castiel thinks about it, the more he's sure of it. This is a gigantic step for him, but he's willing to take it – he really wants to do this – and he lets Dean know that. “I am sure. I want to be together with you.”

 

At first, he's coming upon silence and his sudden burst of confidence disappears. “It's okay, if you don't want to,” he says hastily, wondering if he should let go of Dean's hand. He kind of wants to punch himself in the face.

 

But apparently, Dean was just speechless for a few moments, and now he's finding his voice. “What, are you kidding me? I want to be together with you.” He quickly kisses Cas on the lips before looking at the road again, so they don't actually veer off the road. There's a huge grin on his face. “We are so together.”

 

Cas is basically bubbling over with relief, and he laughs. He's happy and thankful, and he presses a kiss to Dean's hand, sighing delicately. They're together now. They are _boyfriends_ now. For a second, he's scared it's too much for him, but right now there's not an ounce of anxiety inside of him.

 

Right now, everything's fine and even more importantly, Castiel is fine.

 


	21. Chapter 21

Still sleepily, Dean opens his eyes. He's just waking up and his mind is still half unconscious. He blinks a few times, realizing that his arms are empty. Groaning and squeezing his eyes shut again, he rolls on his back. He's lying alone in his bed and he misses to hold Castiel in his arms. It was so fucking great to wake up with the blue-eyed boy in his arms. But it's also good to be back home again, he has to admit that. He missed his little brother when they were visiting Bobby, though it was only for a short while.

 

As he slowly wakes up completely, he reminisces about yesterday. They arrived back at home, and – after a few kisses in the car – he dropped Cas off at his house. Then, he drove to Missouri's house and picked Sam up, who already waited for him. Missouri had made them some casserole and back at their house they had dinner together, and Sam asked about their visit to mom's grave and at Bobby's place. Dean was really tired, but he answered his brother's questions, although a little shortened.

 

There's just one part of the trip he told Sam about at the full length, and he enjoyed it greatly. Sam listened carefully to him, a big grin on his face, while Dean talked about how Castiel had asked him if he wanted to be his boyfriend.

 

“And what did you say?” Sam asked, not being able to stop grinning.

 

“Yes. What else?”

 

“That means you're officially together now?”

 

“Yep.” Dean started to smile at the memory. “But we don't want to hang a lantern on it, not yet. So, don't spread it around. We're only telling you and Cas' brother Lucifer for now.”

 

“Thank you for telling me, Dean,” Sam said softly.

 

“Of course, Sammy,” Dean said, and Sam didn't even complain about being called _Sammy._

 

Now, Dean is staring at the ceiling with a large smile on his face. And his smile widens even more, when he realizes again that Cas and he are actually boyfriends now. Oh fucking shit, _they're actually together now._

 

And _Castiel had asked him_ if he wanted to be his boyfriend – that was really only Cas' decision. He wants to be together with Dean. Dean knows that this is something big. This is a big deal for Cas, hell for the both of them. But he is _happy_. Dean is happy because Castiel Novak is his boyfriend now. He's happy about them venturing this step – together. And it's really good that Sammy is happy for him, for them, as well; it means a lot to Dean.

 

They are free for a few more days and spend as much time with each other as possible. It does them good. They do each other good. They do each other a world of good, no matter how fucked up they both may be. Sure, they have to figure this whole thing out now – neither of them had an actual and serious relationship before – but they want to do that together. And Dean is taking this very, very seriously. He never took something so seriously, except for taking care of his little brother. They are a real thing now, and they may be a big deal, but no matter how difficult or complicated that may be, they are together and that's just _awesome._

 

But since it's difficult and complicated enough already, they agreed on the drive home on only telling Lucifer and Sam about their relationship as a start. Dean hopes that will play a part in contributing to taking some of the pressure off Cas. They can just ease into it, without having to worry about any possible expectations from the exterior. The only thing they have 'to worry' about is to make this work. But Dean is very sanguine about that. As long as they both throw themselves into it, as long as they both are just themselves and always honest with each other, there's no reason why it shouldn't work out. It just has to work out, then. After all, this is how a relationship works, right? Dean doesn't really know, he is unfamiliar with this kind of thing, but he's sure _commitment_ is a very important part in a relationship. And maybe he's not a good person, but he's trying his best for the blue-eyed boy, because Castiel only deserves the best.

 

God, Dean feels like the luckiest guy in the world right now, because Cas is his boyfriend. He's so crazy about this gorgeous boy. He does still hate himself – after all, he's still _he –_ and he can tell that Cas does still hate himself as well. But Dean adores Cas so fucking much, and he just wants him to see himself like Dean sees him. Though, Dean does know that they've still got a long way to go. But it's fine, because they're on this road together and that's all that matters.

 

He doesn't know who he owns this to, but he's just happy to have Castiel – in his life, and now even as his boyfriend. The blue-eyed boy is all he wants, and he'd never thought it's possible to feel like this about another person. The thought of being _soulmates_ is really super fucking cheesy, but it's also making his head swim, though in a really good, just a little overwhelming way. All in all, he's simply grateful for his chance with Castiel.

 

They do a movie night together with Sam. _Thank god, dad isn't home,_ Dean thinks. John also doesn't come home as long as Cas is there. Sam is excited to see Castiel again, and he doesn't even try to hide it. He even answers the door, when Cas rings the bell – _mind you, but Castiel is his brother's official boyfriend now._ Dean rolls his eyes at that, and Cas' cheeks redden slightly, though he smiles at Sam and flashes Dean a huge grin.

 

When Sam is getting the popcorn out of the kitchen, Dean scoots closer to Cas and kisses him. The ocean is glistening, wide and deep, and he loses himself in these blue eyes for a moment, realizing again that he's truly in love with this gorgeous boy.

 

Sam comes out of the kitchen and enters the living room with a bowl of popcorn, clearing his throat loudly before he slumps down next to them on the couch. Dean snorts, but he watches intrigued how Cas starts to blush faintly. He runs his fingers through his hair and slings his arm around Castiel's shoulders, getting comfortable and ready for the first movie. Cas chuckles, and Sam is practically beaming at them. Dean is just so relieved and happy and thankful that his little brother is delighted for him.

 

They watch movies Dean's never even heard of before – Castiel and Sam coordinated with one another what movies they are going to watch in advance. _Howl's Moving Castle, Spirited Away, Castle in the Sky_ and _My Neighbor Totoro._ Maybe Dean doesn't get anything out of these movies, but he does get something out of the way Castiel is sitting very close to him, leaning more and more against him during the evening, and also out of the way Cas is smiling, completely relaxed – in fact, he does get a lot out of all these things.

 

On another evening, they bring Sam to Missouri and meet at Charlie's place with Meg, Gabriel, Gadreel, Dorothy and Charlie, of course. Her parents are out of town, so she has the house all to herself. They play cards – poker, blackjack and Uno. Gabriel wants to play _strip poker,_ but he's the only one, so they don't do that.

 

Dean wins 4 of 6 rounds of poker, Cas wins one and Meg wins the last round. Gadreel is in luck, when they're playing blackjack. Really, it's downright unreasonable. He almost completely ignores Dean except for a few very dirty looks he shoots him every now and then. In turn, Dean ignores these.

 

When they're playing Uno Cas, Charlie and Dorothy ace and win all the rounds by turns. It's all a lot of fun. Dean is able to relax and he knows Cas is, too. All of their smiles and laughter are genuine, but it's a little annoying that he has to prevent himself the whole time from holding Castiel's hand and from just kissing the blue-eyed in front of all these people.

 

Though, when he drove Cas home and parked in front of the Novak's house, he does kiss Cas, letting out a deep sigh. Cas kisses him back without hesitation, and Dean rakes his fingers through Castiel's black hair. He doesn't want to say good night yet, but he has to pick Sam up from Missouri's. He runs his fingers through Cas' hair and kisses him one last time before pulling away. Cas sighs, putting his hand on Dean's cheek. “Drive carefully,” he says quietly.

 

Dean rolls his eyes halfheartedly. “Always. I'll text you when we're home.”

 

Cas nods, smiling at him and giving him one last goodnight kiss.

 

On Sunday, Dean and Cas have some time alone and they drive to the park. They enter it hand in hand and walk to the playground. No one else is there, and they sit down on the swings, still holding hands. And they just talk, a bit about everything and anything. Cas raves a little about the lead singer of his favorite band _Panic! At The Disco –_ Brendon Urie – and Dean complains about Charlie, who wants to get him to watch _Harry Potter_ together with her. But he lets Cas do the most talking and just enjoys the sound of his gravelly, but soft voice and the feeling of Cas' hand in his. Every so often he has a look at the thick, grey clouds above them, and he thinks that Castiel looks very cute with that blue scarf he's wearing. Though, he does wonder if the trenchcoat is actually warm enough for these temperatures, but Cas doesn't complain about the cold, not once.

 

Dean would have loved to continue sitting there, but eventually it starts to rain. At first, it's just a sprinkle of rain, but soon it's raining heavily. They get up and run to the Impala, though they're still soaking wet when they arrive at the car. Hastily, they get into the car and look at each other, both of them starting to laugh. Their clothes are close to dripping wet and their hair sticks to their foreheads. Dean cannot fail to note that Castiel is looking very, very good right now – simply absolutely gorgeous. It's almost unfair, but he's feeling too lucky to be able to call Cas his boyfriend to care about that. He marvels at the boy sitting next to him, and for a few seconds he can't believe that Cas is actually his.

 

As he keeps staring at the blue-eyed boy, he thinks that life isn't so bad, after all. There are things and people worth living for, and _maybe_ his life isn't a complete joke to the universe. Maybe it just took some time to push him in the right direction and to get him here. But now, he _is_ here, right next to this perfectly imperfect boy, who doesn't even know what impact he's having on Dean's life. He swallows, throat rippling, and he just knows that he belongs here – that he truly belongs to Castiel.

 

He leans towards Cas, capturing his lips with his own and realizing that everything's fine right now. And even more importantly, _he is fine._ Dean gently pushes his tongue into Cas' mouth, framing the blue-eyed boy's face with his hands. Castiel tastes like the falling rain, and Dean's heart beats strongly in his chest.

 

Neither of them wants to go home already, so they just stay there, sitting in the car that's parked by the side of the road near the park. Dean turns on the car heater a little bit and takes Castiel's hand again, immediately intertwining their fingers. And they just continue talking.

 

After a while, they start to talk about when they've first met and about their first encounters. Actually, it's Cas who starts to talk about this topic. “Did you really think what you told me, when you've seen me for the first time?” he asks out of the blue.

 

Dean looks at him with a smile on his face. “That you're the most gorgeous boy I've ever seen?” he asks quietly, and Castiel nods. “Yeah, I really did think that.”

 

Cas bites his lip, clearly trying to suppress his smile. Dean shakes his head slightly, kissing the blue-eyed boy on the cheek. “You are gorgeous, that's just a fact,” he says.

  
“Stop it.” Cas scoffs, for his part shaking his head now.

 

Dean chuckles. “You are gorgeous,” he repeats simply. Then, he looks at Cas wonderingly. “What did you think when you've seen me for the first time?”

 

Cas thinks about it for a moment before he flashes him a crooked smile. “Pretty, but not really my type.”

 

For a few seconds, Dean just stares at him, then he bursts out laughing. Cas starts to laugh as well.

 

“Aw man, that's too bad,” Dean says, still giggling. He looks at Cas, who stopped laughing. “To be honest, I couldn't allow myself to think about you like that,” the blue-eyed boy admits quietly. “I didn't want to think about you like that. I was so angry at myself for instantly becoming infatuated with you. I was scared what it would do to me, what it would cause inside of me.”

 

Dean squeezes Castiel's hand. “I can relate to that. I saw you and it felt like I got hit by lightning. It was weird and surreal, and I had never felt anything like that ever before. And I didn't want to feel like that.”

 

“I remember how you were staring at me, like you couldn't believe what you were seeing. But that's why you've made fun of my painted fingernails, right?” Cas asks, returning his look. Dean bites the inside of his cheek. “Yes. Sorry about that.”

 

Cas shakes his head sternly. “It's fine. I wasn't exactly nice to you, either.”

 

Dean remembers something at that. “Was my band t-shirt really almost painfully ugly?” he asks, pouting at Cas.

 

The blue-eyed boy chuckles lowly, rubbing his neck. “No, not really,” he says and kisses Dean on the cheek. But suddenly, he looks sad. “I really wanted to hate you, and to stay away from you. It was so scary that you were always on my mind. I knew right away that I had a crush on you, or that I was about to have a crush on you, but I couldn't admit it to myself. I didn't want to admit it to myself, because I didn't want to have a crush on you.”

 

Dean can totally understand all of that, but still, it also makes him feel sad. “And now? Is it still scary?”

 

Cas looks him in the eye and a smile touches the corners of his mouth. “Yes, but not as much anymore, and now it's okay. I can admit to myself now that I like you. I can even tell you that.”

 

“Good,” Dean says. “I feel the same. I wanted to hate you so much, and just to stay away from you, and not to fucking like you. I didn't want to have _feelings_ for you.” He runs his fingers through his slowly drying hair. “Some things are not meant to be,” he jokes, pressing a kiss to the back of Castiel's hand. Cas smiles softly at him.

 

It's still raining. Fat drops are drumming on the roof of the car and pattering against the car windows. But inside of the Impala, it's warm and cozy. Dean leans more against Cas. It's a very pleasant atmosphere – he definitely doesn't want to end their togetherness just yet.

 

“We couldn't stay away from each other,” Cas says quietly.

 

“No,” Dean says.

 

“Do you remember Anna's party on Valentine's Day?” Cas asks, starting to draw patterns on Dean's hand with his thumb.

 

“Yes. Why?” Dean says, even though he already knows what Castiel is getting at.

 

“Do you wanted to kiss me?”

 

“Yes,” Dean answers earnestly.

 

“Why didn't you?” Cas wonders.

 

“You looked so scared,” Dean says, remembering that moment so clearly. “Did you want to kiss me, too?”

 

Cas bites his lip. “I'm not sure, but I think so. Though, you're also right – I _was_ scared. I don't know how I would have reacted, if you had actually kissed me, to be honest.”

 

Dean nods slowly. “What about that one time at the bathroom at school? If I had kissed you then, would you have allowed it?”

 

Castiel looks out of the windshield for a moment. “Yes,” he says quietly.

 

Dean slides a bit downward on the seat, in order to be able to lay his head on the backrest. He stares at the ceiling of the car. “If Alastair hadn't interrupted us, I think I actually would have kissed you.”

 

The blue-eyed boy mirrors him. “Mh, such a wasted opportunity,” he mumbles.

 

“We've wasted so much time,” Dean says, pressing his eyebrows together and swallowing. Cas turns his head to him, but he doesn't say something yet. “When I think that we could have had this already _months_ ago...” He returns Cas' look, but to his surprise the blue-eyed boy is shaking his head.

 

“Dean, neither you nor me was ready for this. If you had made a move on me right at the start, I would have pushed you away harder than ever. Because I hadn't known how to deal with it, or I hadn't been able to allow it to happen. You know, after I've kissed that one boy and had a panic attack, I didn't want to have anything to do with boys anymore. I didn't want to have feelings for anyone, I didn't want to let anyone in. And then you came and I was instantly drawn to you. I refused to believe it, because I thought it wasn't even possible – I mean, I couldn't actually _like_ you.” He pauses for a moment, sorting his thoughts anew. “I know it feels like wasted time, but if it had been any different, maybe it wouldn't have worked out, then. Maybe we wouldn't be sitting here right now and be actually together. We both needed that time to come around and to get clear about our feelings for each other. Though, I've _really_ missed you, when we weren't talking, and I'm really so sorry for pushing you away.”

 

Dean strokes Castiel's cheek with his forefinger. “I understand now why you've done that. And I've really missed you too, when we weren't talking.” Deep down, he does know that Cas is right. Still, he wishes they had been able to get clear about their feelings for one another sooner. He kisses Castiel again softly, scooting even closer to the blue-eyed boy. “You do know though, why we instantly felt that way, right?” Dean asks quietly against Cas' lips.

 

Castiel wrinkles his forehead slightly. “Why?”

 

Dean smirks at him. “Because we belong to each other.”

 

Cas chuckles and just kisses him again, but Dean knows he's agreeing with him.

 

A few days pass by, and they have to work again. It's all back to normal – oh well, with the exception of the fact that they are a couple now. But that's just awesome. Who would have thought that being in a relationship felt _this_ fucking good? Or that being in love for the first time in his life felt so _marvelous_? – even though he can't tell Castiel that he loves him, not yet at least. But Dean knows that he does love the blue-eyed boy and it's literally vertiginous.

 

He comes to meet Cas at Pamela's diner after his early shift there. Pamela is happy to see Dean again and brings them free apple pie, ushering them to sit down at a table. While they're eating, Cas asks him if he wanted to go to the Halloween party at the house of the Lafitte's with him. Dean agrees on it right away, but he knows something's off. Castiel isn't looking him in the eye, he's biting the inside of his cheek and he's picking at his food.

 

“What's wrong?” Dean asks, nudging Cas' leg with his foot under the table.

 

Cas looks up, returning his look rather sheepishly. “I've... I've been thinking...,” he says a little hesitantly.

 

“About?” Dean wonders.

 

Castiel presses his lips together, looking around in the diner and at the other customers. He sighs. “It's just something you've said to me... it's been on my mind ever since we came back from visiting Bobby.”

 

Dean cocks his head, creasing his forehead in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

 

“Do you remember my birthday?” Cas asks, not waiting for Dean to answer before he continues speaking. “We were here and you said that it's our first _unofficial_ date, and when I'm ready for actual dating, we could have our first _official_ date.”

 

Dean nods, finishing off his slice of apple pie. “I remember that. You asked me what would be, if you were never ready for it.”

 

“I was scared and worried that you'd leave, if you found out more and more about me and my past. But then I've made the decision that it's _your_ decision, if you want to stay with me or not.”

 

“Okay,” Dean says quietly. “I knew that you were scared. Why are you telling me this now?”

 

“Well, like I said I've been thinking, and now I believe you that you won't leave.”

 

Dean's face lights up at that and his heart starts to beat faster. He grins at Castiel.

 

“And I know now that I _am_ ready for actual dating. Or at least, for dating _you._ So, I thought we could say that this party is _our first official date._ I mean, just for us, since the others don't know about us yet.”

 

Dean hasn't asked Castiel for an actual date, because he didn't want to put any pressure on the blue-eyed boy. He's kinda afraid that it could become too much for Castiel already that they are a couple now. But again, it's the blue-eyed boy who's taking control and who's making the next step. He just keeps surprising Dean.

 

“God, I really want to kiss you right now,” he whispers, staring adoringly at Cas.

 

Cas snorts, but he's blushing and shaking his head.

 

“I'd love to have our first official date,” he tells Cas, who smiles widely at him. “So, that's a yes?”

 

“How could I say no to that?” Dean asks in disbelief, his heart fluttering in his chest. Cas just grins at him for a moment before he leans forward, propping his elbows on the table. “I really want to kiss you now, too. We should leave,” he decides and gets up already.

 

Dean laughs and follows Cas over to Pamela. They farewell her and leave the diner, walking over to the Impala. They get into the car and Dean drives Castiel home, who tells him about his day so far. Dean is glad to see there's no car parked in front of the Novak's house, what means that Lucifer isn't home. He parks in the driveway and turns off the engine, and then Cas is already kissing him. He simply isn't able to think of a better thing than kissing the blue-eyed boy at the moment.

 

Carefully, he puts his hand on Cas' neck, pulling him even closer. Yeah, this is pretty awesome, and that already sounds like a huge understatement. Maybe it's just perfect to kiss Castiel.

 

Cas is the first to pull away, but just an inch, and he doesn't open his eyes. Dean on the other hand does open his eyes, seeing the smile on Castiel's lips. They just breathe each other in for a few moments, and Dean feels so much love right now – it's _almost_ unbearable. He touches Cas' bottom lip with his thumb, softly kissing him again, barely gracing the other boy's lips with his own.

 

Now, Castiel opens his eyes, scooting closer to Dean again and putting his hand on Dean's cheek. “You're so beautiful,” he whispers, “and you're mine.” He stares at Dean in amazement, as if it's the most impossible thing in the world.

 

Dean breathes in, breathes out, returning Cas' look – _fuck, did his heart stop beating for a moment?_ _Maybe,_ he thinks. By all means, it wouldn't surprise him. “I am yours.” He kisses Castiel again and his heart is suddenly beating ten times faster as usual, wanting to leap out of his chest.

 

 

* * *

 

 

It's Halloween and Castiel is standing in his room in front of the mirror on the wardrobe door, having a last look at his costume. He wrinkles his brow just a bit before shrugging his shoulders. It's a poor costume, but _it is a costume,_ he thinks. The others – especially Dorothy and Charlie – insisted on wearing costumes at the party. After all, it's Halloween. So, he tried his best and no one can demand more of him. He doesn't know what the others are going to wear, but he dressed himself up as a cat. A black cat, to be exact.

 

He looks at his reflection. Okay, maybe a black cat that's a little more _flamboyant_ than other cats. Cas is wearing black patent-leather shoes, black skinny jeans, a black long-sleeved shirt that's tugged into his jeans, and black cat ears. He applied some make-up – black eyeliner and black and golden eye shadow – and he painted his nose black and golden and gave himself some black whiskers with facial color. He also put some golden and white glitter on his clothes. All in all, that'll have to do. Actually, he's quite content with his costume, if he really thinks about it.

 

And he's curious what costume Dean is going to wear. The green-eyed boy is dropping Sam off at Missouri's house right now, but he should be here at any moment. They don't know for sure, but it's likely that they'll be home very, very late, so Sam is going to spend the night at Missouri's house, since tomorrow is Friday and he has school. Fortunately, Cas and Dean are free tomorrow.

 

A few minutes later, the door bell is ringing and Cas goes downstairs, with a huge smile on his face. He answers the door and Dean is standing in front of him. At first, Castiel is a little overwhelmed, staring at Dean and wondering how the hell he got so fucking lucky. _This boy is his boyfriend. This boy is_ his, _he wants to be his._ They are actually together, because Cas was brave enough to ask Dean if he wanted to be his boyfriend. Only a few seconds of insane courage and this is the result.

 

Cas is so distracted, it takes him a moment to realize that Dean isn't wearing a costume at all. His face falls. “Where's your costume?” he asks, only noticing now that Dean is staring at him, mouth agape. “What?” Castiel asks, confused, looking down at himself. He remembers his cat costume and that he didn't tell Dean what he's going to wear, since he hasn't known it himself until four hours ago.

 

Dean clears his throat, still staring at him mesmerized. “Can I say something and you won't freak out?” he asks, stepping closer and entering the house. Cas steps aside to let him in, looking at Dean questioningly and a bit nervously. “That depends, I guess, but just say it,” he decides.

 

First, Dean kisses him before he tells him what's on his mind. “You look hot.”

 

Now, it's Castiel, who looks at Dean with his mouth hanging open. “W-what?” he stutters, feeling the heat on his face and under his make-up.

 

Dean looks at him, half apologetically and half pleased with himself. “I'm sorry, it's just... you look _really_ hot. Just wow. With all the black and the make-up, the blue of your eyes is even more prominent than usual. I just wanted to tell you that, I'm sorry.” He starts rambling, and Cas regains his composure.

 

He bites his lip, but then he chuckles as he realizes _it's fine._ He kisses Dean briefly. “It's okay,” he says quietly. Dean looks at him for a moment, making sure that it's really okay, before he nods.

 

“Good,” Cas says, smiling. “Now, tell me. Where's your costume?”

 

Dean snorts. “I don't do costumes.”

 

“But it's obligatory,” Cas says. Dean shakes his head, grimacing. Castiel pouts. “But it's Halloween.”

 

“So?” Dean asks, and Cas knows the green-eyed boy doesn't want to give in. But he also knows that Dean can't go like that, although he looks as beautiful as ever. Therefore, he puts his hands on Dean's waist, pulling him a little closer and causing him to be a bit taken aback.

 

“Remember? It's our first official date. So, _for me?”_

 

Dean swallows, and they both probably don't know what's gotten into Castiel. After all, he's not only flirting with Dean (what he's done before), he's flirting with him _physically._ But Cas is feeling good, he's feeling weirdly confident. Maybe it's just the costume, or the fact that Dean thinks he's hot, or maybe even both.

 

“That's unfair,” Dean says, pouting now as well. “Besides, from where the fuck would I get a costume _now?”_

 

Oh, Cas thinks. That's a good point. But then again, as he stares into Dean's green eyes, he hits on the perfect idea. In a split second, the perfect costume for Dean came into his mind. And everything they need for it is there. Cas starts to grin at Dean, who seems confused. “What?” he asks.

 

But Castiel just takes his hand and pulls him along. They go upstairs, into his room, and Cas isn't able to stop grinning. Though, he knows they don't have much time left, since they want to walk to Benny's house and arrive at the party in time. He gestures for Dean, who's very confused and not able to hide it, to sit on the bed. Cas starts to rummage around in his closet until he finds what he was looking for – a forest green cotton sweater. The color is very similar to Dean's eyes and it should fit the other boy just fine.

 

Dean is still looking at him questioningly. “What exactly are you doing?”

 

“We are going to get you a costume. I have something in mind, and everything we need for it is already here.” Cas grins at him again.

 

“Okay,” Dean says slowly. “And my costume is going to be _what?”_

 

Castiel's grin widens even more. “You'll see when I'm done.”

 

Dean isn't able to hide his smile, though he's shaking his head. “Fine. I trust you.”

 

“Great. Put this on. You can keep on the dark jeans, though. It'll look good,” Cas says, handing the sweater to Dean, who sheds his leather jacket and puts it over the back of Cas' desk chair. He puts the sweater on, over his white t-shirt. Yes, Cas was right – it _does_ match Dean's eyes, and it fits him.

 

“And now?” Dean asks, smiling softly at Cas, who bites the inside of his cheek.

 

He isn't sure if Dean will be okay with the next step. “Wait a second,” he says, briefly going into the bathroom and coming back with something in his hands. Dean tilts his head slightly, looking at him in disbelief. “Is that make-up?” he asks.

 

Cas nods. “I'm wearing it too,” he says, shrugging his shoulders halfheartedly.

 

“Yeah, but you look good with it,” Dean complains weakly.

 

“If that's the only thing you're worried about, then I can already assure you that you're going to look amazing.”

 

Dean pouts a little again (looking endearingly adorable, fucking hell), but he's thinking about it. Then, he shrugs. “Fine. Whatever makes you happy,” he says, a bit grumpily, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

 

Cas is grinning once again. “I won't apply too much, I promise. Just bringing out the main points.”

 

“I don't even know what that's supposed to mean,” Dean mumbles. Cas chuckles softly.

 

He applies some golden eye shadow around Dean's eyes, knowing it will make the green of his eyes stand out even more. He applies some of it also on Dean's cheek bones and on his forehead before he puts some lip gloss on Dean's lips and some glitter into his hair. The green-eyed boy accepts it all without protest and he keeps his eyes closed.

 

“Are we done?” Dean asks, when there's nothing touching him anymore, but that's because Castiel is examining his work. “Almost.”

 

Cas walks over to his nightstand, getting out the crown he bought for Dean. Actually, he bought it to give it to Dean for Christmas, but now it feels like a more appropriate time.

 

“Are your eyes still closed?”

 

“Yes,” Dean says.

 

Castiel takes Dean's hand, pulling him up and placing him in front of the mirror on the wardrobe door. Only then, he puts the crown on Dean's head. The green-eyed boy wrinkles his forehead and suddenly, he's laughing softly and opening his eyes. “You didn't...,” he says quietly, looking at his reflection.

 

Cas doesn't know yet what Dean is thinking, but he's staring at him a little awestruck. “I bought it,” he says, biting his lip. “Like I've said, you look good in a crown.”

 

Dean blushes faintly, turning his head to Cas. “Can I go like this?”

 

Cas nods. “Yes.” He wraps his arms around Dean for a few seconds. “You look beautiful.”

 

Dean has a look at himself in the mirror again, but he's smiling, and just kisses him as a silent _thank you_ before they hit the road and walk to Benny's house.

 

They arrive just a little too late, but the party is already in full swing. Benny answers the door, letting them in. He's the host and very happy to see them, complimenting them on their costumes. Benny is portraying a vampire – with fake fangs, red contact lenses, his old fisherman hat and everyday clothes. Cas knows that Benny wasn't too keen about having to wear a costume, and smiles at his attempt.

 

Charlie and Dorothy come over to them, hand in hand and already with drinks in their hands. They are portraying a zombie couple, and Castiel is thrilled about their bloody make-up and the torn up clothes. They have fake wounds on their faces, their throats, their arms and also on their legs. Dorothy is wearing a blue shirt and dark extremely ripped jeans, whereas Charlie is wearing a short white dress. All their clothes are stained with blood splatter. Castiel admires the details of the costumes; the girls certainly took great pains with them.

 

“ _Oh my god,”_ Charlie squeals when she sees him and Dean. “You guys look stunning. Where's my phone? Pictures, pictures, pictures.” She is definitely already half-drunk, but she hands Dorothy her glass and in exchange Dorothy hands her her phone.

 

Dean looks at them questioningly, and then turns his head to Cas, who shrugs. “Whatever.” He chuckles and stands right beside Dean. “There you go!” he says to Charlie, who's holding her phone in one hand and smiling excitedly at them. Dean slings his arm around Cas' waist, pulling him marginally closer, and Charlie takes a few pictures of them.

 

Gabriel comes over to them, wearing a loose-fitting suit and he's combed his hair back. “Oh, wow. Cool costumes, guys. What exactly are you, Dean?”

 

“Isn't it obvious?” Dorothy asks, crossing her (bloody) arms in front of her chest. “A forest prince.”

 

Dean points at her, grinning widely. “Exactly.”

 

“What are you, Gabe?” Cas wonders.

 

Gabriel points at himself. “Isn't it obvious? _A slimy lawyer.”_

 

They all start to laugh at his remark, even Dean, who hasn't removed his hand from Castiel's waist so far. But Cas doesn't really mind, and no one seems to notice it, or at least no one makes a comment about it.

 

The other party-goers are spread out in the living room and the kitchen. There are quite a few people Castiel and Dean don't know, at all. Cas assumes they're new friends and colleagues especially of Benny. Some of their friends are missing, though – Balthazar has to work tonight unfortunately, Kevin and Billy weren't allowed to go to the party, and sad to say Garth is sick. But they meet Meg in the kitchen, who's already busy mixing different drinks for different people. She's dressed up as a sexy nurse.

 

Cas raises his eyebrows at her, starting to grin. Happily, Meg makes a complete turn for them, showing off her costume and a lot of bare skin.

 

“Wow,” Dean says. _“Smoking.”_ He whistles, and Cas laughs, taking the drink Meg mixed for him.

 

“Thanks, Dean. You look very handsome as well,” Meg says, grinning and handing Dean a drink, too.

 

Benny's mom – who isn't at home – took care of the food together with Benny. There are plates with her famous burgers, bowls and plates full with cheese skewers, pizza rolls, puff pastry pie, stuffed peppers and other finger food, and also a lot of candy. Whenever they see Gabriel that night, he's always eating. Dean is instantly hooked on the burgers, and Cas thinks he has to meet Benny's mom some day.

 

Gadreel is in the living room, likewise already provided with a drink in his hand, and he's portraying a rock star. He's wearing a dark leather jacket with spikes on his shoulders, he has fake tattoos on his arms and on his neck, and he even brought his guitar along. Castiel talks with Gadreel for a few minutes, and Dean disappears into the kitchen, back to Meg and her bartending skills.

 

When Cas returns to the kitchen as well, he finds Dean sitting at the kitchen table and Meg laughing at something he said to her. “I'm sorry,” she whispers to Cas, when he's standing next to her. He looks at her quizzically. “For what?”

 

Dean starts giggling, although no one said something funny and nothing even remotely funny happened. Cas furrows his brow, pointing at all the glasses on the table. “How many did you drink?” he asks Dean, who's furrowing his brow as well. Then, Dean starts laughing boisterously and Cas stares at him wide-eyed.

 

“I don't remember,” Dean says, and Castiel looks at Meg, raising one eyebrow.

 

“Don't look at me like that,” she says. “I'm not responsible for anything.” Since Meg is drunk as well, there's no point in arguing. But Cas doesn't even want to argue. He just laughs and Dean immediately starts laughing again, too. After he flashes her a smile, Meg mixes him another drink and he downs it with one gulp.

 

Cas feels like getting drunk tonight, especially because there's no big brother waiting for him at home, who could scold him – Lucifer has a professional development in a town that's three hours away, and he's going to stay there for a week.

 

The party is a lot of fun. At least, they are laughing a lot, which is perhaps down to the fact that there's quite a lot of alcohol in their systems. Castiel feels good, _really good,_ and when he looks in the bathroom mirror after he took a quick piss, he can see that his eyes are twinkling and he has a sanguine complexion. He grins at himself and jumps a little, when suddenly the bathroom door opens.

 

 _Mh,_ he thinks, wondering how the hell he could forget to lock the bathroom door. But he supposes it doesn't really matter, especially because it's Dean, who's entering the bathroom and closing the door behind him. He smiles as soon as his eyes land on Castiel.

 

“Cas!” Dean exclaims, stepping closer and gently putting his hands on Cas' waist – probably to keep his balance. “Been looking for you,” he says, words a little slurred.

 

Cas chuckles, wrapping his arms around Dean's neck and kissing him. The green-eyed boy drank something sweet, he doesn't know what, but he can taste it on Dean's lips. The alcohol has significantly cut down his inhibition threshold, but Castiel doesn't give a single fuck about anything besides Dean at the moment. He pulls Dean along as he walks backwards until his back hits the wall. Only then, he pushes his tongue into Dean's mouth, and the little groan that escapes Dean sends a thrill through Cas' body. He pulls Dean even closer, not minding that he's pressed against the wall, and threads his fingers through Dean's hair.

 

A loud _clang_ startles them both and they pull away. It sounded like someone just knocked something of a table, or so, but Cas doesn't waste much thought on it. He feels very warm, but not in a bad way, and even though there's a small, small voice in his head that tells him he should be scared and run away once again in his life – he isn't scared and he doesn't want to run away for once in his life.

 

Castiel bites his lip when he sees Dean's wolfish grin, trying to clear his head. But Dean just takes his hand. “Come on. Dance with me.”

 

They leave the bathroom, quickly finding their way back into the living room. By now, everybody is drunk and no one's paying attention to them. Cas spots Charlie, Dorothy and Gabriel dancing on the other side of the room, and Gadreel just followed a pretty girl out of the room. All of a sudden, Dean's hands are on his waist again, drawing Castiel's attention back to him. Dean starts to sway slowly, even though a fast song is playing at the moment. Cas smiles widely at the green-eyed boy nonetheless, his hands coming up around Dean's shoulders. The music, the people and everything else that's surrounding him is slowly but surely pushed to the background, until there's only Dean left, standing so close right in front of him. At some point, Dean leans forward and presses their lips together, while simultaneously pulling Castiel flush against him.

 

It takes Cas an embarrassingly vast amount of time to figure out what exactly is going on. When he finally does, they have spent a few hours dancing and continuing to drink, walked hand in hand back to Castiel's house, and are already inside of the house. They've left the party around 2:30 am, and the cool night air didn't really sober them up. Now, they're standing in the hallway, Dean still with the crown on his head that's just a little askew. And finally Cas realizes that _he's turned on._ He swallows, almost waiting for his voice of reason or the voices of his demons to speak up, but his mind is blissfully empty.

 

He doesn't remember when he made this decision, but all at once he's kissing Dean, who kisses him back a bit roughly. The kiss is sloppy, due to their drunkenness, and every now and then their noses bump together, but neither of them minds it. They're both drunk and somewhere in the back of his mind, Castiel knows he wouldn't do this, if he were sober. But he _isn't_ sober, and Dean's lips feel fucking amazing.

 

Cas also doesn't remember how or when, but _somehow_ they end up in his bedroom. He closes the door behind him and is instantly pressed against it by Dean, who presses himself against Castiel. Cas' mind is still empty and there's just Dean – his lips, his smell, his taste, his broad muscles and the way he's holding him against the door. He can still taste the alcohol on Dean's plump lips, on his tongue, and Dean also still smells like booze. Though, he also smells like cheap body wash and just like Dean; it's earthy, warm, heavy, delicate and sweet all at the same time. Cas simply gets lost in everything that is Dean, and he doesn't care about everything else right now.

 

Yes, Cas is definitely turned on, and he kisses Dean roughly as well. It feels too fucking good to stop, and he doesn't want to stop _ever._ Though, he does flinches and stiffens, when he feels the hard line of Dean's erection through his jeans.

 

_Oh, fuck. Oh, fucking hell._

 

Dean just keeps kissing him and pressing against him, and much to his surprise Castiel has to realize something – _he has an erection, too._

 

Cas doesn't know what to think. He's drunk and his brain doesn't function properly. He wonders if he should pull away. But then again, _why?_ After all, this is Dean. So, there's no reason to freak out, no reason to pull away, no reason to stop, right?

 

_Right?_

 

He doesn't know. Castiel doesn't know what to do, but his body starts to move on its own, pressing in closer and rolling his hips against Dean's. He feels the vibration of Dean's groan against his lip, and this magnificent sound resonates in his still empty mind. For a moment, he's just relishing in it and he thinks that it's really hot – _Dean is hot_ – and then he notices Dean's hands that are on his back but moving down, hovering briefly over the swell of his ass before sliding into the back pockets of his jeans. Dean pulls him impossibly closer, and their groins collide. And much to Cas' horror, there's a switch flipped inside of him and every cell of his body fills with anxiety.

 

Castiel jerks his head back, breaking off the kiss and pushing Dean away from him – painfully hitting his head on the wooden door behind him, but that's the least of his problems. They're both breathing hard, but while Cas is staring wide-eyed at Dean, the green-eyed boy is returning the look totally puzzled. Cas swallows, his brain is only slowly catching up, and he's shaking.

 

_No, no, no. Fuck._

 

_Why? He was feeling good. He was actually enjoying himself. So, why the fuck is this happening?_

 

He can't look Dean in the eye anymore and walks past him, sitting down on his bed. _Fucking shit._ There are tears pricking at the corners of his eyes and he can't breathe. _No, no._ Dean shouldn't see him like this. He doesn't want Dean to see him like this. He rubs his eyes, his face, and runs his fingers through his hair, knocking off the cat ears and throwing them on the floor with one movement. Cas hasn't been so angry at himself for a while already. _Oh god, why is this happening?_

 

He _liked_ what they were doing. He wanted to do it and even _more._ Fucking hell, why is he like this? Why can't he just get over what happened to him? It was five years ago. And this is _Dean,_ who likes him and wants him, and Castiel likes and wants Dean as well and he trusts him. So, where the fuck is this anxiety coming from?

 

“Cas?” Dean asks cautiously, and he looks up. Dean is looking at him, worry darkens his green eyes and he takes off the crown, placing it on Cas' nightstand. Castiel looks back down at his hands, swallowing, but there's a lump in his throat, and again he has the feeling that he can't breathe properly. Anxiety is scratching at the inside of his skull, and his heart is beating at the back of his throat.

 

Dean sits down next to him, but Castiel instantly gets up, going over to his desk and looking out of the window. He turned his back to Dean.

 

“Cas,” Dean says again, but Cas starts to shake his head. “Can you leave, please?” he asks, knowing he's far too good at ruining everything. After all, he just ruined his first official date with Dean.

 

“What? No, I'm not going to leave,” Dean says. “Come here, so we can talk about it.”

 

“I don't want to talk,” Cas says quietly, and the first tears start to spill. He rubs his eyes with shaky hands, not wanting to cry in front of Dean. The green-eyed boy hasn't seen him like _this_ before, so what if this is what will scare him away?

 

 _Oh god, he can't lose Dean – not now, not ever._ He's so into Dean by now, he couldn't deal with it if Dean left now. He doesn't even want to know _how_ he'd deal with that.

 

“Cas, it's okay,” Dean says, voice quiet and gentle. Cas didn't hear him get up, but suddenly Dean is standing right next to him. Cas turns his head the other way, in order not to have to look at Dean and so Dean doesn't see him cry.

 

“Cas, it's okay”, Dean repeats. “Really, it's okay.” He walks around Cas to be able to look at his face, but Cas just turns the other way again.

 

“I don't know for sure what you're thinking, I can only guess. But I can already tell you that I'm not mad at you.”

 

Now, Cas _does_ look at Dean, confused and in disbelief, and he's so fucking angry at himself, it's tearing him apart. “Why not? Why are you never mad at me? Why are you never telling me not to make such a fuss and to pull myself together instead?”

 

“Because there's no reason for me to be mad at yourself,” Dean starts, but Castiel interrupts him right away. “Aren't you frustrated, because we didn't...?”

 

Dean sighs. “Would I have loved to continue? _Hell yes._ But I already told you that I want you to feel comfortable. What's in it for me, if you're not able to enjoy it? I want us both to enjoy it.”

 

Cas looks down at the floor. His chin is quivering and he's still crying, though he tries to stop it by biting his bottom lip way too hard.

 

“I'm not going to leave. If you don't want to talk, or if you can't talk right now, that's fine. But I'm not going to leave,” Dean says determinedly.

 

Castiel shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut, but he doesn't stop crying. _Fuck,_ he thinks, when he feels himself going numb. _No, no._ He doesn't want that. In fact, it's the last thing he needs at the moment.

 

“Tell me what you need, please,” Dean says, but Cas almost only hears him distantly. Though, _what_ does he need? Does he need the green-eyed boy to go away? Should he tell Dean to go away? Cas opens his eyes, more tears are running down his cheeks and he tries to wipe them all away. _Fucking anxiety,_ he thinks and looks at Dean – and another switch is flipped inside of him.

 

 _Fuck. Fuck everything,_ he thinks and slings his arms around Dean's neck, who hugs him back tightly right away. Cas nuzzles his face into Dean's shoulder, sniffling. “Can you stay?” he breathes.

 

“Of course. I'll stay, Cas.” Dean tightens his grip carefully.

 

By now, both of their erections have withered. Cas knows he's the one who killed the mood successfully, although that's not what he wanted. All in all, it takes him more than an hour to calm down to some extent, and he only manages to do so, because Dean is there. But even the green-eyed boy had difficulties calming him down this time. Fortunately, Castiel just falls asleep eventually.

 

Though, as soon as he wakes up, everything that happened in the night is crashing in on him at full tilt – the shame, the anger, the embarrassment, the guilt, and the anxiety. It's absolutely terrible. Cas rolls on his back, staring scowlingly at the ceiling for a moment before he looks to the side – and realizes he's lying alone in his bed. Swallowing, he sits up and looks around in his room, but Dean isn't there. Worry is tearing at his mind, and he already has a headache.

 

 _Did Dean actually leave?_ Cas folds his blanket back, and his hands are shaking once again. He gets up and quickly has a look in the bathroom, but it's empty as well. He's scared that Dean isn't there anymore. What if the green-eyed boy changed his mind about Castiel, about their relationship? Even though he has every right to do so, _but still..._

 

Biting the inside of his cheek, Cas slowly walks downstairs and tugs nervously at his sleeve. He doesn't want to think about what will be, if Dean actually left. But now there's a voice inside of his head that's piping up all of a sudden, increasing the pain behind his eyes even more by screaming _you fucked up, you fucked up, you fucked up._ Once again, he's realizing that anxiety is one of the worst things a person can experience. He isn't able to silence the voice in his head, and he's so close to spiraling downwards into a vortex of worry, anxiety and self-loathing. And only a few moments later, he could slap himself in the face.

 

Dean is standing in the kitchen, coffee is brewing, bacon is sizzling in the pan, and the green-eyed boy is smearing butter and jam on a few slices of toast. Castiel just stands in the doorway and stares at Dean for a few seconds. He's mesmerized and immensely relieved, and he's able to breathe normally again, because Dean is still there.

 

 _Oh, fucking hell. Dean is still there. He_ didn't _leave._

 

“Hey,” Cas says, feeling like a fucking idiot, and Dean looks up and at him.

 

They just look each other in the eye for a long time, and simply because of the expression in Dean's green eyes Cas knows that everything's fine between them.

 


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy :D

Castiel is sitting on one of the chairs around the kitchen table, chewing on the inside of his cheek absentmindedly. He's looking at Dean, who has his back turned to him at the moment. The green-eyed boy is still wearing the green sweater that Cas gave him yesterday, but instead of his dark jeans he's wearing some light gray sweatpants from Cas that he must have taken out of his closet while he was still asleep. But Cas doesn't mind it, since on top of this Dean is barefoot, and he's simply cute and beautiful. Right now, he's pouring coffee into two mugs and putting slices of toast with jam and also the bacon on two plates. He turns around to Cas. “You drink your coffee with milk and sugar, right?”

 

Cas just nods, not able to look Dean in the eye for longer than three seconds. Dean puts the mugs and plates onto the table and sits down next to him.

 

“I thought you could do with some breakfast,” he says. A small smile touches the corners of his mouth as he looks at Cas.

 

“Thank you,” Castiel says quietly, even though he isn't really hungry. He still has a headache, and just nips at his coffee.

 

“How are you?” Dean asks.

 

Cas shrugs his shoulders, not looking at the green-eyed boy. “Don't know.”

 

He really doesn't know. All he feels is this massive anger inside of him that's piling up like bricks and is sitting heavily on his stomach. And it's also very confusing for him that Dean seems so _calm._ The green-eyed boy is clearly worried, but still calm. Cas remembers everything Dean said to him last night, and he doesn't understand why Dean isn't yelling at him, why everything seems to be fine by him. This calmness that Dean is exuding in spite of his concern freaks Cas out a little.

 

“Are you really not mad at me?” he wonders quietly.

 

Dean props his elbows up on the table, resting his chin on the palm of his hand. “No,” he says softly. “Though, I know that you're mad at yourself.”

 

Cas returns Dean's look. Sighing, he takes a piece of toast and starts to nibble at it. It's true. He _is_ mad at himself – super fucking mad to be exact – because he panicked, when they were making out last night. “I'm sorry,” he mumbles around the slice of toast.

 

Dean wrinkles his brow. “There's no need to apologize, Cas,” he says. “If someone has to apologize, it's _me.”_

 

Now, Castiel is confused altogether. “Why should you apologize?”

 

“Because I have the feeling that I pressured you into doing it. I know it seemed as if you were enjoying yourself, but you were also drunk. We both were drunk, and it wasn't right. I said so many times that we're going your pace, and then my brain just took leave, and...”

 

“I'm going to interrupt you right there,” Cas says, lifting his hand. “It didn't just seem like it. I genuinely _was_ enjoying what we did.”

 

Dean looks down at the table, trying to hide the smile that's tugging at the corners of his mouth in his cup of coffee. “Me too,” he says quietly. He looks back at Cas, biting his lip a bit. “What happened then?”

 

Cas starts to bite his bottom lip as well. “I panicked?” he says weakly.

 

“I know. But why? Was it something I did, or...?” Dean says, and Castiel knows that the green-eyed boy just wants to understand it.

 

“It just became too much, all of a sudden. And I'm really sorry, okay? No, let me apologize, please,” Cas says, when Dean wants to interrupt him. “I am sorry. Because I thought it was fine. I thought _I_ was fine, and that I could do it – I mean, I really wanted to do it – but I wasn't able to.”

 

“But that's a _good thing,”_ Dean says gently, taking a slice of toast now as well.

 

Cas stares at him, taken aback. “What?”

 

“Cas, you realized that you weren't ready, and you listened to your body and your mind that were telling you that you weren't ready for it. That's a good thing. Wouldn't it has been much worse, if we had continued?”

 

He thinks about Dean's words for a moment before he shrugs, still feeling unsure. “I guess so. You're really not mad at me for changing my mind?”

 

Dean carefully takes Cas' hand into his. “Of course not. It's fine, Castiel. We're going slow.”

 

Cas nods reluctantly, and Dean bites his lip again. “What happened after we've stopped?”

 

Cas presses his eyebrows together. “That was an anxiety attack.”

 

“And why did you want me to leave?”

 

Castiel runs his fingers through his hair and flicks at some crumbs on his plate, not looking at the green-eyed boy again. “I didn't want you to see it – to see me _like that._ I was scared that it would scare you away, that you would leave then.”

 

“Don't get me wrong, please,” Dean says, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “I just want to understand, so I'm able to help you more.”

 

Cas squeezes Dean's hand back, giving him a crooked smile.

 

“You told me you believe me now that I'm not going to leave,” Dean reminds him.

 

Cas takes a deep breath. “That's what anxiety does. It took this belief away from me again.” He huffs a small, humorless laugh. “I'm sorry. It's so irrational.”

 

“Hey, it's fine. And I'm sorry that you have to go through this. But, remember? You're a work in progress.” Dean flashes him a smile. “I am, too. And that's completely fine. Though, I'm trying to avoid a situation like last night from now on. You know, getting drunk and making out without thinking about it.”

 

“You're so understanding towards me,” Cas says in disbelief, and now Dean seems a little confused. “Yeah, of course. You are my boyfriend. It's kinda my job to understand you, and to be there for you, and to help you fight whatever it is you're fighting against.”

 

Finally, Cas returns Dean's smile properly.

 

“I know what happened to you. And I understand that this whole relationship thing has to be fucking difficult for you. But that's why you have me. We can figure everything out together. It's hard for me as well, but in different ways. Though, I guess commitment is crucial.” Dean shrugs a little.

 

“Commitment,” Cas says and his smile widens a little. “I'm glad to have you,” he adds, leaning forward and kissing the green-eyed boy softly. Castiel can taste the strawberry jam on Dean's lips. Dean carefully kisses him back. “Everything's fine between us, okay?” he says, when they pull away, and puts his hand on Cas' cheek. Cas doesn't have to think twice about this. “Okay.”

 

His heart is beating a little bit faster than usual, but it's a good rhythm. Dean is still there, and what more could he want? Sure, it almost feels too good to be true. But it's even more than good, it's fucking amazing and still, it's very true. It's real, and it's happening right now. Cas' head starts to swim a little.

 

“Do you feel better?” Dean asks, scooting closer to him with his chair. Cas smiles at him. “Definitely. Thank you.”

 

“You don't have to thank me.”

 

“But I want to. And I don't want you to think that I'm taking all this for granted. Because I really don't.”

 

“I know that,” Dean says softly.

 

“You know, I thought I would never find someone, who accepted me for everything. I didn't even know if I wanted to find someone. I didn't want to do this to anyone, because it's so much.”

 

Dean kisses him. “And still, here I am.”

 

“Yeah, but you have to be honest with me, and to tell me if I'm not what you want anymore. Can you promise me to tell me if that happens?”

 

The green-eyed boy stares at him for a moment before he starts to smile. “That's an easy promise, because it won't ever happen.”

 

Cas swallows. “How likely is it that soulmates meet at such a young age?”

 

“I don't know. But aren't we lucky, then?”

 

“I'm the lucky one,” Cas says automatically.

 

Dean blinks at him. “Forget it. You are stuck with me now, but I got _you_ – what's like the best thing ever.”

 

Cas doesn't even mind that he's blushing, though he does mind that Dean is diminishing himself like that. But he doesn't dwell on it. Instead, he asks another question. “Just asking, but do you think we're still going to be together in, let's say, ten years?”

 

“Yes,” Dean answers immediately.

 

Cas looks at the other boy and realizes that his anger has dissolved by now. There aren't any bricks in his stomach anymore. There's only a warm, weird fluffy feeling left in the pit of his stomach. “We have absolutely no idea what will be in ten years.”

 

“That's true, partly at least. But I already know that we're still going to be together, then”, Dean says confidently.

 

“You sound so sure of it,” Cas says happily.

 

“Aren't soulmates supposed to stay together forever? I mean, what else would be the point of belonging to one another?” Dean wonders with a smile spread across his face.

 

“ _Forever_ is such an awfully long time,” Castiel says teasingly.

 

But the green-eyed boy stays serious. “Still not long enough,” he decides quietly.

 

“Dean, we're together for like two weeks.” Cas rolls his eyes halfheartedly, though the warm feeling starts to spread through his whole body.

 

“Yeah, but somehow all the months before it do count, I think. In one way or another, at least. We've liked each other long before we became a couple.”

 

Cas scoots as close as possible with his chair to Dean, leaning against him. “Are you sure you will never get sick of me and all my problems?” he asks, biting his lip.

 

“Yes, I am sure about this.”

 

“We will be completely different people in ten years,” Cas deliberates. “What if we changed so much that we will lose interest in one another?”

 

“That's not going to happen,” Dean answers sternly, but still gently. “I mean, yes. We will change. But change is a good thing. We will grow and become different people, but I promise you I won't ever lose interest in you. I will adore you a little more with every passing day.”

 

Cas huffs a breath, getting a bit teary-eyed. “And you said I'm the one who always manages to say the right thing at the right time.”

 

Dean chuckles. “I'm just telling you what I think. And I want to make sure you don't doubt again that I'm not going to leave you, at least not so fast again.”

 

Cas has laid his head on Dean's shoulder, but now he lifts it again, in order to be able to kiss the green-eyed boy. “I think in ten years we will laugh about this.”

 

“I'll remind you of that.”

 

Since Lucifer isn't home, but rather in another town because of the professional development – he's going to come back next Wednesday –, Cas asks Dean if he had to go home, or if he wanted to stay for a little while longer. Dean wants to stay, and they finish eating and clean up the kitchen. Then, Dean takes Castiel's hand and pulls him along into the living room. They sit down on the couch and Cas has to listen to Dean's music for a change, but he doesn't mind it at all, because they're huddled up to one another.

 

They don't talk about last night again, because everything that had to be said _was said._ Everything's fine again, though Castiel is still a bit ashamed of himself, and just ever so glad that he didn't scare Dean away.

 

The green-eyed boy stays until he has to pick Sam up from school. Cas walks him to the door, and they kiss in the hallway. He's feeling so much better, although he thinks a lot after Dean has left.

 

But he's able to think about their situation and their relationship factually, without freaking out – and that's a start. Once again, he's realizing how honest he's already been with Dean. He hasn't been this honest with anybody before, not even with his brother, hell not even with _himself._ Sometimes it's easier to throw something into a box and just store it away in a dark corner somewhere in the back of his mind. Sometimes it's easier not to be honest with himself and not to admit something to himself. Simply, because he doesn't trust himself. He could freak out and make things even worse, so he rather not think about certain stuff. But he trusts Dean so fucking much, and it's even more than that.

 

Castiel feels _safe_ with Dean. He knows he is safe with Dean, simply from the way the green-eyed boy says his name to the way he touches him, body and soul. Most importantly, Dean doesn't freak out and he doesn't make things even worse. He's trying so hard to be there for Cas, and to understand him, and to help him. He chooses to stay, and to fight together with Cas. And Cas just knows that Dean would never hurt him intentionally – and if he ever hurt him unintentionally, then Dean would be miserable because of it. Dean is trying to protect Castiel, most importantly from Cas' own demons. Dean is able to make Cas feel better and to help him to get out of his comfort zone.

 

By now, Cas has realized that his comfort zone isn't so comforting. He's stuck there. It's restrictive, and it's stopping him from being the person he wants to be – for Dean of course, but especially for himself. And he won't get out of his comfort zone as long as he doesn't make any steps towards the edge of it. He does know he has to make these steps on his own, but it's certainly easier with Dean walking by his side. Suddenly, a smile spreads across his face.

 

Maybe he had an anxiety attack when they were making out, because it all happened too fast and he didn't think about it at all. He was drunk, and the alcohol numbed his anxiety for quite a while, but it couldn't hold it back forever. _But_ if he thinks it through and even talks with Dean about it, and if they don't rush it, _maybe then_ he won't have an anxiety attack again.

 

Cas bites the inside of his cheek, fascinated and also confused by how calm he is right now. But yes, he wants to have these experiences with Dean, he wants to do this with Dean. He remembers that Dean said they're going slow, and he ponders over that for a few minutes.

 

 _To go slow_ just means to go slow. Castiel could also walk slowly down the street, but he'd still be moving – that is a terrible comparison, he thinks. Though, he does know what he means. Dean and he can go slow, but that doesn't have to mean that they're not doing anything. Right?

 

Castiel wants to do something – _with Dean._ The more he thinks about it, the more confident he feels about the whole thing. And for all these years, he didn't feel confident about the topic sex or about his body at all. Sure, he's still insecure about his body, but maybe Dean is able to help him to get past this. Fucking hell, he didn't feel comfortable to even think about sex, let alone to think about actually carrying out any sexual acts with a real other person.

 

But he loves Dean, and although he isn't able to tell Dean this yet, he's sure of it – as sure as someone can possibly be of something. And he wants to be together with the green-eyed boy – _in every way._

 

The best thing is though that he's already able to gather up enough courage and tell Dean about this the very next day. It doesn't even matter how awkward he may feel, when he starts this conversation.

 

On Saturday you see, he has an early shift at Missouri's shop, and he is in charge of everything, since Missouri is visiting her sister. In course of the morning, Dean stops by and it's really not a busy morning, which is why Cas is sniffing a chance to talk with Dean alone and without interruption.

 

They're sitting behind the counter, and Dean is staring at him. “What are you thinking about?” the green-eyed boy asks.

 

Cas takes a deep breath, but he's giving Dean a small smile. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

 

Dean's green eyes start to glisten with curiosity, and he returns Castiel's smile. “About?”

 

“The Halloween party and what happened after it.”

 

The smile gets wiped from Dean's face, as he slumps in his chair. “Cas, we _have_ talked about it, and everything's fine. Or isn't it?”

 

“No, you're right,” Cas says, turning his chair, so he's facing Dean completely. “Everything's fine. But I thought about it all, and I know you said we're going slow, but that doesn't mean we're not allowed to do anything.”

 

Dean's eyes flicker over Castiel's face. “What do you mean by that?”

 

“Well,” Cas says, running his fingers through his hair and huffing a small laugh. He bites his lip briefly before scooting closer to Dean, who looks at him with wide eyes. Cas puts a hand on Dean's neck, pulling him closer and kissing him with just enough passion that he realizes what Cas is getting at. “I mean by that that I want to do _something.”_ He smiles widely at Dean, who swallows.

 

“Are you sure about that?” Dean asks, half worried, half hopeful. Cas chuckles and nods.

 

“Just so there are no misunderstandings, we're talking about making out and sex, right?” Dean asks, biting his lip.

 

Cas rubs his neck, and he's very aware of his cheeks that are burning, but he nods again. “Yeah.”

 

“We don't have to,” Dean says, shrugging halfheartedly.

 

“I want to,” Cas says, knowing it's the truth. “I wouldn't have told you, if I weren't sure.”

 

Dean cocks his head a little, biting the inside of his cheek. “If you're sure about this, then I'm not going to say something against it. But we should talk about it, don't you think?”

 

Cas nods, relieved somehow. “Yes, we should talk about it. I don't want any misunderstandings between us anymore. It's important that we talk.”

 

Dean nods along to his words. “I couldn't agree more,” he says. The green-eyed boy seemed to be very surprised at first, but now he's grinning happily at Cas.

 

“So, what do we talk about? What exactly we're going to do, or...?” Castiel says.

 

Dean chuckles, running his fingers through Cas' hair. “No, I don't want that. If it's okay, we can decide that in the moment we're doing it.”

 

Cas swallows, thinking about this. “It is okay,” he decides. “What do we talk about, then?”

 

“You have to promise me something,” Dean says seriously.

 

“And what?” Cas asks, a bit nervously.

 

“If you change your mind again, you have to tell me. If you want to stop, you have to tell me, and then we stop, no matter at what point.”

 

They look each other in the eye, and Cas' heart is pounding in his chest. “I promise,” he says quietly.

 

“Great.” Dean smiles at him. “I just want you to feel comfortable, and to be able to enjoy it.”

 

“Have I told you that you're an amazing boyfriend?” Cas asks softly, after a moment of silence.

 

“No, but you don't have to tell me that. I already know,” Dean answers bluntly, causing Cas to explode with laughter, and the green-eyed boy starts to laugh as well.

 

And then, they're kissing again and neither knows who started the kiss. But it's sweet, and there are no doubts, no worries, no demons in Cas' head. He kisses Dean without hesitation, without any rush, and it just feels good.

 

“When, though?” Dean asks, when they pull away again.

 

Cas wants to answer, but suddenly the bell above the door is jingling and a young man enters the shop. Quickly, Dean and he pull away from each other completely, and also move away from the other one with their chairs. Though, they dart a quick glance at one another.

 

Castiel would guess that the man is in his early twenties, and he's already disliking him because he interrupted Dean and him. Besides, he's taking his sweet time with having a look around in the shop and choosing to put different items into a basket, while he shoots them a look every now and then. When he finally comes to the counter, they see that the basket is full with small stuff – like tea, decorative articles, a cup, a pair of gloves, and candles. But that isn't why Cas is disliking him now even more, and why he's so staring at him – the reason why is _the guy is flirting with Dean._

 

The green-eyed boy is just as surprised as Castiel. But Castiel is jealous as well, and he has to note that in addition to that the young man is fairly attractive.

 

“Can I have your number?” he asks Dean blatantly now.

 

Dean huffs a laugh, briefly furrowing his brow. “I'm awfully flattered, but I'm already taken.”

 

“Oh, he doesn't have to know. I don't have a problem with that.”

 

Dean looks at the guy, totally appalled, but Cas clears is throat. _“I'm sure his boyfriend would have a problem with that.”_ He scowls at the man standing in front of the counter. Dean starts to grin, and the guy starts to understand.

 

“Oh, _you_ are... mh, such a shame. We could have had some fun. Well then, I'd just like to pay.”

 

When the guy leaves the shop and the bell is jingling again, Dean can't hold in his laughter any longer.

 

“This isn't funny,” Cas grumbles, but Dean is nodding. “Yes, it is. You should have seen your face.”

 

Now, Cas is scowling at his boyfriend, who's still snickering, though he manages to say something. “I have already told you this, haven't I?”

 

Castiel looks at him questioningly, squinting a bit at the green-eyed boy. “What?”

 

“Jealousy looks good on you,” Dean says with a grin, and Cas instantly remembers when Dean has said this to him the first time – when Anna has asked him about her party on Valentine's Day and flirted with Dean.

 

He shakes his head. “You're impossible.”

 

“Yeah, but that's one of the reasons why you like me.” Dean doesn't stop grinning at him.

 

Cas huffs a breath, leaning back when Dean tries to kiss him. Dean looks at him with a pout, but he ignores it. _“Though, when?_ We got interrupted at that question, and I'd say on Tuesday, my place. My brother is out of town and we have to work before noon, so we can meet in the afternoon.”

 

Dean is still pouting, but he thinks about Castiel's proposal. “Okay. Sounds good,” he decides. “Can I kiss you now?”

 

Instead of replying, Cas just leans forward and kisses the green-eyed boy.

 

“Just so you know,” Dean says in between kisses. “I'd really choose you over any other boy, or over any girl, at any time.”

 

Cas smiles softly against Dean's lips. “Good to know.”

 

When Dean drove him home and Castiel is alone, then he only notices his nervousness. But there's still no anxiety inside of him. It's just a normal nervousness, anyone would feel when they were about to venture into a sexual relationship with their boyfriend for the first time. And it's not too much for him. Besides, Cas reminds himself that it's about _Dean._ He's going to do whatever it is they'll decide to do with Dean. And that's the reason why it's going _to be fine._

 

 

* * *

 

 

Since it's Sunday, Dean is sleeping late. He woke up the first time around 6:30 am, even though he didn't set an alarm. Thankfully, he was able to fall back asleep and get a few more hours of rest. The next time he opens his eyes, it's already past 11 am, and he actually feels rested – but also hungry. So he gets up, showers quickly and gets dressed, and a grin spreads across his face, when he remembers the talk with Castiel yesterday.

 

A buzzy feeling makes his heart race, and he knows that he's _happy._ Not just because Cas and he will start venturing into a sexual relationship, but because the blue-eyed boy took the next step – once again – and especially because they're able to talk with each other so openly. It's not just important for their relationship, but also for both of their mental health. That they are able to be so honest with each other means _that they trust each other._ They both need someone they can trust like this, and they found this someone in each other.

 

Dean feels so fucking lucky. Castiel is _his,_ and he is _Castiel's,_ and no matter what this is how it's always going to be. He is dead certain about this.

 

He believes every word he said to Cas. They are soulmates, and they belong to each other. And they are supposed to spend the rest of their life with one another. Isn't that kind of an unwritten rule by the universe?

 

And he's just so incredibly relieved that Castiel didn't shut himself away from him again. On the night of the Halloween party, he was scared Cas would push him away again, and that he completely overstepped the blue-eyed boy's bounds. But they've talked, and everything's fine again.

 

Given both their histories, _communication_ and _commitment_ are the key. And Dean wants to do this the right way. Castiel's anxiety and just all of his problems – Dean is having consideration for all of it. He doesn't want to hurt the blue-eyed boy, ever.

 

He steps out of the bathroom and just enters his bedroom to get his phone, but then he happens to look out of the window. Immediately, he freezes. It started to snow while Dean was in the bathroom. Large, white snow flakes are whirling around through the air in front of his window pane. And they're stirring something in Dean's head.

 

 _Oh no,_ he thinks, closing his eyes. _Fuck._

 

Today is November 3 rd  – his mom's death-day. He gulps. Every year, this day is simply awful. It's pure horror.

 

His mind was so consumed by Castiel that he forgot what date it is today. That has never happened before, but Dean doesn't feel bad about it. To be honest, he wishes he hadn't remembered what day it is. God, he hates this so fucking much.

 

All the good and warm feelings in his body and in his mind because of Castiel get sucked out of him in a matter of seconds. And now, he just feels really down. Groaning in frustration, Dean leaves his bedroom and goes downstairs – after he knocked on Sammy's door and found his brother's room empty.

 

Sam is in the living room, sitting on the couch and reading a book for his English class – _The Catcher in the Rye._ Except that he's not really reading it. Sam's eyes aren't moving, he just stares blankly at the pages, without flipping them. Dean has a look into the kitchen, but no trace of John.

 

“Hey,” he says, leaning against the back of the couch and looking down at his little brother.

 

Sam looks up from the book and at him. “Hey.”

 

“Where's dad? Is he home?” Dean asks, but Sam shakes his head. “Dad left the house early, around 8 am.”

 

“Since when you're up?”

 

“Since dad left the house.”

 

“And how are you?”

 

Sam shrugs his shoulders. “How are you?”

 

Dean ruffles Sam's hair. “I'll feel better, when this day is over.”

 

“Yeah, me too,” Sam says quietly.

 

Dean stares at his little brother, thinking of a way to cheer him up, or at least to distract him from thoughts about mom. “Did you already have breakfast?”

 

Sam just shakes his head, and Dean hits on an idea. “Hey, how about we drive to Pamela's diner and have breakfast there? Cas has an early shift at the diner today.”

 

His brother gives him a small smile. “That sounds nice.” He goes upstairs quickly to bring the book into his bedroom and when he comes back downstairs, Dean already has his leather jacket on and the car keys in his hand. “You're ready?”

 

Sam nods, grabbing his jacket. But they're not fast enough.

 

All at once, John comes home and he is dead drunk. He slams the door shut behind him, squinting at them. “Where you're going?”

 

“We just...,” Dean says, being totally caught off guard. “We just wanted to see some friends.”

 

He tries to think of a way that will prevent this encounter with their dad from ending in a disaster. But the only thing that comes to his mind is to make two steps to the left, so he's standing in front of Sammy, who's just standing there in silence. As always, Dean doesn't care about himself – he only worries about his little brother.

 

“Do you know what day it is?” John asks, swaying a bit.

 

Dean nods. “Of course,” he says quietly.

 

John keeps staring at them. “It's been 12 years already. 12 long years.” His words are extremely slurred. Dean wrinkles his brow, trying to understand properly what his father is saying. “12 years without her.” Suddenly, John walks into the kitchen, bumping up against the door frame and then holding on to the back of a kitchen chair, so he doesn't stumble over his own feet. Dean and Sam dart a questioning glance at each other.

 

John opens the fridge, has a look into it, and closes the door with a disappointed scowl. “Is there no beer?”

 

Dean sighs internally and shakes his head.

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because no one bought beer,” Dean says, unsure of what John wants to hear. But apparently he said the wrong thing.

 

“Don't give me that bullshit, you little smart ass!” John says angrily, taking a step towards them.

 

Dean is swift to react. He thrusts the car keys into Sam's hand, pushing his brother in the direction of the door. “Wait in the car. I'll be right there.”

 

Sam obliges right away, though he looks at Dean with deep worries in his eyes. As soon as Sammy closed the front door behind him, Dean starts to talk. “I'm sorry if I offended you, but...”

 

“Save it, Dean! I don't want to hear this.”

 

“Dad, I know what day it is and how hard it is, but you can't...”

 

“Do you really have any idea of how hard this is?” John shouts at him.

 

Dean swallows, looking at his father in disbelief. “We lost her, too. Okay?” he says quietly. _“We lost her, too.”_

 

“And again, who's fault is it?” John shouts, raising his voice even more.

 

Dean scoffs, rubbing his face and putting his hands into the pockets of his jacket. _Not today,_ he thinks. Not today of all things. He can't do this today. He doesn't want to do this today. He turns around, wanting to leave the house – just wanting to see his boyfriend.

 

All of a sudden, there's a hand on his shoulder, turning him around. Before Dean even has a chance to react, John has already landed an impressive punch on his jaw, causing him to stumble against the coat rack. Pain flashes through Dean's head and he tastes blood in his mouth. Angry and confused, he's staring at his father. “What the hell was that for?”

 

“That was for you just turning around and walking away. Because you can't handle the truth?” Without a warning, John hauls off again, though Dean is able to avoid getting hit this time. John may be drunk right now, but that's only causing his aggressiveness to increase, and it's only affecting his accuracy minimally.

 

Because of that, Dean decides to get out of here – in fact, he has to get out of here promptly. He tries to run to the door, but shortly before his hand reaches for the door handle, John tackles him, knocking him down. Dean's chin hits the floor painfully, and he groans as pain flashes through his skull once again. John turns him around, so he's laying on his back, pinning him down on the floor, and he punches him two more times, hitting Dean's jaw again and also his nose. Then, John just gets up and disappears into his bedroom.

 

Dean just stays there lying on the floor for a minute or two, blinking at the ceiling and grimacing, because of the booming pain his skull. He gets up, slowly and cautiously, and he regrets it right away. His head is spinning, and then everything around him starts to spin as well. Thank god, it's only for a moment, and then it's alright again. Dean presses his hand flat against his forehead, briefly squeezing his eyes shut, and he smacks his lips, tasting the blood that's running out of his nose now. He wipes his nose with the back of his hand. _Fucking hell._

 

Well, that _was_ a disaster, but apparently it was inevitable.

 

Dean can well do without another encounter with his father, so he hurries out of the house as fast as he can now. When he gets into the Impala, Sam is staring at him with wide eyes, but his brother is furious. “What happened to your face?”

 

“What do you think?” Dean asks back, his voice sounding a little bit testily, even though he doesn't mean to. He starts to drive, and Sam slumps in his seat. “Hey, it's not so bad. It could be worse.” Dean tries to lighten the situation, but he keeps silent after the dirty look Sam shoots him.

 

They don't drive to Pamela's diner. Dean doesn't want to arrive at Castiel's workplace like _this._ Instead, they flee to Missouri, who's at home thankfully. She eyes Dean's bruised face with a sour expression on her own, telling Sam to set the kitchen table while ushering Dean into the bathroom. Nothing is broken, but his whole face is hurting, and there's a fat bruise on his left jaw – though, it could be much worse, he thinks. Hell, it has been much worse before. _At least,_ nothing is broken.

 

Missouri cleans his face with a washcloth and examines it before she starts to ask questions. “Why was your father so angry?” Of course, it's out of question _who_ did that to Dean's face.

 

He swallows, returning her stern, but warm look. “Today is mom's death-day. And he can't deal with it.”

 

“So, you're saying that because _he_ is hurting, he has to hurt _you?”_

 

Dean shrugs, not knowing what to say to that. Missouri shakes her head disapprovingly. “A broken heart is not an excuse to break somebody else's heart.”

 

He gives her a weak smile. “I suppose not. But what can we do about it?”

 

“To begin with, Sam and you can stay here, and you can eat as much as you want.”

 

“That sounds like a good idea,” Dean says quietly and follows her out of the bathroom and into the kitchen.

 

Missouri does the cooking for them, and actually it's far too much for just the two of them – in a way it's even kind of a brunch, with Sandwiches, salad, assorted cold cuts, a cheese platter, cold meat, and chocolate pudding as dessert. But then again, it's actually good she made this much, since Dean texts Cas if he could come over after work, and the blue-eyed boy brings some people, who arrive shortly after him.

 

Dean texts Castiel while they're eating. _Hey, I'm at Missouri's house, with Sam. Can you come over after work?_

 

Cas replies after a few minutes. _Sure. Did something happen?_

 

Dean's reply is short. _Fight with dad._

 

Castiel texts him back right away. _I'll be there._

 

And really, the blue-eyed boy comes over right after work, though he stops dead when he sees Dean's face.

 

“Could be worse,” Dean says. “I've looked worse.” He smiles and points at his face, but Cas doesn't smile back at him.

 

Castiel touches the bruise on Dean's jaw tentatively with his fingertips. “What was the fight about?”

 

“Today is mom's death-day,” Dean answers quietly, and he has the feeling he has said this far too often already today. “Dad was drunk and simply upset. It didn't take much to make his blood boil.” He shrugs his shoulders.

 

“Oh,” Cas says, biting his lip. “I'm sorry.”

 

“Don't,” Dean says, shaking his head. “Please, just don't. Don't apologize for this.”

 

Cas nods, putting his hand on the side of his face, stroking his cheek. “Okay,” he says and kisses him gently. “But you are not okay, right?”

 

Dean looks into Castiel's blue eyes, simply shaking his head. Cas smiles softly at him. “That's why I'm here.”

 

When someone behind them clears their throat, Dean jerks his head around and Castiel cringes slightly. They were lost in each other's eyes for a moment. It's Sam, who's leaning against the wall with a grin on his face. “Hey, Cas.”

 

Cas chuckles. “Hey, Sam.”

 

Dean shakes his head at his little brother, rolling his eyes and wanting to say something to him, when the doorbell rings. He creases his forehead in confusion and turns around. Castiel is smiling at him.

 

“Who is that?”

 

“Well, I thought you guys could use some distraction, so I made a few phone calls on the way here, and everyone who's free should have just arrived.” Cas opens the door and four people enter Missouri's house – Gabriel, Meg, Garth and Charlie.

 

Sam is especially delighted to see Charlie again, and she hugs him first before she says hello to Dean and Castiel. Dean hugs her back, being glad and thankful that they're all there.

 

Meg hugs him as well, and the girls eye the bruise on his face. Charlie shakes her head at the sight with a sad expression in her eyes, but before she can say something, Dean asks hastily, “Where's Dorothy?”

 

She presses her lips together for a moment, but decides not to ask him any questions. “Her dad wants to buy her a motorcycle for her birthday, and she can have her pick of one.”

 

“Wow,” Dean says, his eyebrows shooting towards the ceiling in surprise. “That's awesome.”

 

Missouri comes into the hallway, not surprised at the many people in her house. “Good thing I cooked so much,” she says, with an eye toward Gabriel and Garth.

 

Gabriel teaches Sam how to do a complicated handshake at the moment. Dean furrows his brow, but Cas is smiling. “Gabe gets on well with kids and even teenagers. That's why he's going to be a teacher.”

 

Dean whistles. “That's bold and impressive.”

 

Gabriel heard them. “I'm going to be an awesome teacher.”

 

“Yeah, and you're going to be stuck in high school for the rest of your life.” Meg snickers, and Gabe shoots her a dirty look, but he's also grinning.

 

Dean notices quickly that the others aren't just trying hard to distract them – they are actually very good at it. Garth tells Sam all about his road trip, and also the others that Ash is staying in Las Vegas at the moment. Gabriel talks with Sam about _The Catcher in the Rye,_ and soon their conversation is an animated discussion. Gabe is impressed how smart Sam is for his age.

 

Meg watches amused how Cas and Charlie work a list out with pros and cons for what reasons Dean should finally watch _Harry Potter._ Of course, there are far more pros than there are cons in their opinion.

 

Dorothy texts Charlie now and then, and tells her about different models of motorcycles that she already had a look at. She even sends some pictures, and Charlie screws up her nose, because she doesn't know a thing about motorcycles. Since she doesn't know what to say, she shows Dean the pictures and asks his opinion.

 

“Where can she have a look at motorcycles on a Sunday anyway?” he asks, looking at the different pictures.

 

Charlie shrugs. “Her dad knows someone.”

 

Dean gives her a recommendation, and Charlie communicates it to her girlfriend. They're all sitting in Missouri's living room for about two and a half hours and enjoy Missouri's cooking skills, while they talk across each other. At about 3:30 pm, Missouri calls them into the kitchen, so they can continue their conversations over coffee (or hot chocolate) and cake.

 

While they others are already going into the kitchen, Cas grabs Dean's wrist and holds him back. He looks at the blue-eyed boy questioningly.

 

“How do you feel?” Cas asks.

 

Dean rubs his neck. “A bit better, I guess. The distraction thing is working.” He chuckles softly.

 

Cas smiles at him, taking his hand. “Do you want to tell the others about us?”

 

Puzzled, Dean looks at his boyfriend. “What?”

 

“I'm just asking,” Cas says, shrugging his shoulders with an innocent expression on his face.

 

Dean smiles at him. “I'd love to, but only if it's fine by you.”

 

Castiel returns his smile, squeezing his hand gently. “It _is_ fine by me.”

 

“Well then,” Dean says and intertwines their fingers. “Let's go.”

 

They enter the kitchen hand in hand, and the others look at them. “Where have you been?” Charlie asks. “Gabriel is already eating his second piece of cake.”

 

“So?” Gabriel says with his mouth full.

 

Sam is the first to notice their interlaced fingers, but he doesn't say something and just grins at them. In turn, Meg notices Sam's grin and she squints at Cas and him. A smile starts to play on her red lips, when she sees that they're holding hands. “Finally, Clarence.”

 

The others turn their heads to her now. “Finally, what?” Garth asks, and everybody looks at Dean and Cas again.

 

Dean huffs a laugh, lifting their hands and showing off that they're holding hands. “I think we have an announcement to make.”

 

Cas rolls his eyes at that, but he's chuckling. Charlie's jaw drops. “Oh my god, really?”

 

Gabriel rolls his eyes at her, but he's grinning. “It's about time.”

 

“So, you're officially a thing now?” Garth asks with raised eyebrows, but he's grinning as well.

 

Dean and Castiel nod. “Yep.”

 

Charlie just has to get up and hug them both as tight as possible. “This is so awesome. _Now, we can double-date.”_

 

Dean pretends that he hasn't heard this for now, and Cas and he each take a piece of cake – Missouri's baked a _Russian Zupfkuchen,_ which is a mixture of cheesecake and chocolate cake. Dean realizes that Missouri hasn't said something to them so far, and he looks at her. She's standing in front of the window and returns his look, smiling warmly and fondly. Dean smiles back at her, leaning against the kitchen counter.

 

Now, Dean is definitely feeling better, and it's just awesome that he's able to hold Castiel's hand in front of the others. He takes advantage of that right away. The rest of the afternoon, they're playing _Monopoly_ and Garth beats them all hollow. In the evening, Missouri fixes them a cheese soup with minced meat and croutons, but everyone is helping her with it.

 

After dinner, Dean and Sam drive Meg and Castiel home before they drive home themselves. They thanked everybody for coming, for distracting them, and for the fun afternoon. Though, back at home Dean feels a little bit depressed and alone again. But he's able to shake off this feeling relatively quickly, and they get ready for bed and lock themselves in Dean's bedroom – just as a precaution.

 

When they're lying in Dean's bed, Sam mumbles that it was really a good idea to go to Missouri. Dean can't disagree with that, but he's tired. “Sleep now, Sammy.”

 

“Just one more thing,” Sam says quietly, although he can't keep his eyes open anymore. “I'm proud of you.”

 

“Why?” Dean wonders, wrinkling his forehead.

 

“Because Cas and you told the others about your relationship.”

 

Dean smiles softly. “Thank you, Sammy.”

 

A few seconds later, Sam falls asleep and it doesn't take Dean long to fall asleep as well. After all, it was a long and exhausting day, and even though they had fun, he's also really glad it's over now.

 

The next day, Dean and Cas are both working, but Dean is already thinking about tomorrow. He's really looking forward to it, though he's also really nervous. He knows what happened when they were making out after the Halloween party, and he's afraid it might happen again. And not because they'll have to stop then, but because of Castiel. It's already hard enough for the blue-eyed boy as it is, and if he has another anxiety attack while they are making out, it could make him really insecure, and then he's mad at himself again. Another anxiety attack could scare Castiel off and frighten him to such an extent that he'll try to push Dean away again. Dean wants so badly to avoid this entirely.

 

He wants Cas to be able to enjoy it, and him to feel comfortable. Dean wants to make Castiel feel good. Dean is _pretty_ sure that he's able to do this – the blue-eyed boy just has to allow it. But if Cas is able to do so, it's going to be absolutely awesome.

 

As the day progresses, Dean's pleasant anticipation and his nervousness are increasing equally. But he knows that this is nothing compared to the emotional turmoil Castiel has to feel at the moment.

 

Then, it's suddenly Tuesday and Dean is hardly able to concentrate on his work properly in the morning. He's kind of expecting Cas to call of their agreement to meet at his place today. But Dean doesn't hear anything from his boyfriend – though, he doesn't know if that's a good thing, or not. He'd rather not think about that too much.

 

After work he drives home and refreshes himself. He's fucking nervous as he looks in the mirror, and jumps a bit when his phone vibrates. Running his fingers through his hair, he takes his phone in hand and looks at the screen – he has a text from Castiel. He swallows. What if Cas actually wanted to call off their agreement? Dean shakes his had, slightly mad at himself. Whatever Castiel wants is fine by him, after all he's the one who said that they're going slow. If Cas is not ready, he's not ready, and Dean won't ever pressure him into doing something he's not ready to do.

 

With a small sigh, he opens the text message from Cas, and huffs a laugh. _Is it okay when we wear sweatpants?_

 

Dean instantly replies. _Of course. See you soon :)_

 

Somehow, Castiel's text decreased his nervousness a little bit, and he smiles at his reflection. Cas hasn't called it off, and that's a good sign. It's going to be good, whatever it is they will do. Dean leaves the house, jingling the car keys in his hands before he gets into the Impala. Sam is going to spend the afternoon with Kevin, Charlie and Gabriel, who grew fond of Sam very quickly. Dean is glad that Sam is in good hands. He doesn't want to leave his little brother alone in the house, just in case John comes home drunk again. They didn't talk with each other since Sunday, they didn't even really see each other, but Dean doesn't want to think about this right now. The only thing he wants to think about is his boyfriend.

 

He drives over to Castiel's place and parks in front of the Novak's house. Swallowing, he gets out of the car and notices that he's still incredibly nervous. He rings the bell and only a few seconds later, Cas answers the door.

 

Dean has decided for dark blue sweatpants and a black t-shirt under his leather jacket. But Castiel is wearing a wine-red sweater and dark gray sweatpants, looking maybe just a little bit more gorgeous than usual, if that's even possible. “Hey,” he says quietly.

 

“Hey,” Dean says and enters the house, taking off his jacket and hanging it on the coat rack. Cas closes the door, biting his lip and fidgeting with his fingers – yes, the blue-eyed boy is definitely extremely nervous.

 

Dean reaches his hands out for the other boy. “Come here,” he says softly.

 

Castiel steps closer and takes Dean's hands a little bit hesitantly.

 

“We don't have to do this today. We can just watch a movie and cuddle on the couch, or so.”

 

Cas gives him a small smile. “I want to do this. I want to do this today.”

 

“Are you really sure about this?” Dean asks, giving Cas' hands a gentle squeeze.

 

But Cas nods. “Yes, Dean. I promised to tell you if I've changed my mind. But I haven't. I'm just... really nervous.”

 

“You know, someone, whom I think highly of, once told me that being nervous is not a bad thing,” Dean says, returning Castiel's smile.

 

Cas huffs a breath. “You are quoting _me_ right now of all things?”

 

Dean chuckles. “Yeah. But hey, if it makes you feel better – I'm really nervous, too.”

 

“Yeah?” Cas asks, surprised. Dean wonders why Cas is surprised by it, but he doesn't ask him.

 

“Yeah,” he just says quietly and clears his throat. “So, um, if you're really sure about this, shall we go to your bedroom?”

 

Cas swallows and takes a deep breath, but then he nods. They go upstairs and into Castiel's room. Dean's nervousness fades away a little more, when he realizes how familiar this room is by now. He closes the door, squeezing Cas' hand. “You okay?”

 

Castiel simply nods again, pressing his lips together. Dean starts to wonder if they should actually do this. He cocks his head to the side, walking over to the bed and pulling the blue-eyed boy along with him. They sit down on the edge of the bed, and Cas returns his look sheepishly.

 

“Hey, we said small steps. If you're not ready, then we don't...”

 

All at once, Cas just leans forward, cutting Dean off with a kiss. “I trust you,” he whispers against Dean's lips, who's feeling very warm right now.

 

“We should lay down,” Dean says, kissing Cas again.

 

Castiel scoots away from him and to the middle of the bed, while Dean removes his shoes. His heart is beating very loudly in his chest, rushing his blood through his veins, and he isn't able to stop the tiny smile that's tugging at the corners of his mouth.

 

Carefully, he scoots closer to Cas and climbs on top of him, straddling the blue-eyed boy. Castiel's breath hitches in his throat, and Dean doesn't move a muscle until Cas puts his hands onto his sides and smiles weakly up at him.

 

“What's up with all the pillows?” Dean asks. “I've always meant to ask you that.”

 

Cas huffs a laugh, relaxing slowly beneath him. “I don't know. It's just very comfortable, I guess.”

 

Dean chuckles, cradling either side of Castiel's face with his hands, leaning down slowly and capturing Cas' lips with his own. Cas pulls in a sharp breath through his nose, but he kisses him back. Dean's heart starts to hammer in his chest, because they're so close and kissing the blue-eyed boy is so fucking intoxicating. They're both sober now, yet he still feels somewhat dizzy. This gorgeous boy that he's able to call _his boyfriend_ is so fucking addicting. And _he is truly Dean's._

 

On top of it all, Dean is sitting in Cas' lap right now and it's awesome.

 

He brushes his thumb over Cas' jaw, breaking off the kiss and simply admiring the blue-eyed boy beneath him. Castiel lifts his head to be able to continue kissing him, but he gulps and sinks back into the pillows, when Dean lets his fingers dance over his neck.

 

Dean is baffled for a few seconds. _This is actually happening._

 

Cas looks up at him. “Kiss me,” he says, and Dean doesn't have to think twice about it. He leans down again. Castiel parts his lips and Dean slides his tongue into Cas' mouth, exploring every inch of it. He thinks he could do this for the rest of his life.

 

The kiss is a little sloppy, and Dean goes very slow, since he doesn't want to scare Cas. But fuck, he wants this to be special for Castiel, because _it's special for him, too._ After all, this is Castiel. This is not some nameless boy at a party, or some girl from school, who want to make out simply to get off.

 

This _means_ something. Cas means something – to Dean. He loves Castiel, he really does.

 

And _boy_ does Dean love it, when Cas plunges his tongue into his mouth. He loses track of time while they're kissing, but he also doesn't care about that.

 

Dean is holding himself up above Castiel, so Cas and he aren't pressed together. He remembers the moment Cas' anxiety attack started the last time they were making out, so he goes extremely slow. And if they were pressed together, Castiel could feel that Dean is already half hard.

 

Once again, he pulls away, breaking off the kiss.

 

“Is something wrong?” Cas asks a little breathlessly, and it's _hot._ Dean shakes his head, a bit mesmerized, running his fingers through Castiel's hair. He lets his fingers move down, gently touching Cas' forehead, his temple, his jaw, his cheek, his chin, and his lips. Only then, he trails a few kisses over Castiel's jaw before moving on to his neck, never stopping to touch Cas' skin with his lips.

 

Cas gasps, but he turns his head to the side, in order to give Dean more access. Dean smiles briefly against Castiel's skin before continuing to press open mouth kisses to the side of Cas' neck. He knows immediately that he could never tire of this, when he starts to nip tentatively at Castiel's skin. A thrill rolls down his spine, when he finds an especially sensitive spot in the hollow of Cas' throat and a faint groan escapes the blue-eyed boy's lips. Simultaneously, a lot of blood rushes into Dean's dick, and he suppresses a groan of his own.

 

He sucks harder on that spot, but not hard enough to leave a mark – even though he'd love to cover Castiel's body in hickeys, but right now is not the time for that. Dean flickers his tongue briefly over the spot before lifting his head, so he's able to look in Cas' blue eyes again.

 

“You're good?” he murmurs against Castiel's lips, who nods. “We can stop at any time,” Dean reminds him.

 

“I don't want to stop.”

 

As much as Dean doesn't want to do something Castiel is not ready to do, he's happy to hear this.

 

He bites his lip, lowering his body onto Cas' very slowly. Dean is thrilled to realize that Cas does not only open his legs for him, he also fits _perfectly_ between them. Now, they _are_ pressed together and Dean can't hide his forming boner anymore, but he also doesn't want to do that anymore. Carefully, he rolls his hips downwards. Castiel's grip on his sides tightens and his blue eyes are wide open, and they're both realizing that _Cas is hard as well._

 

“Cas?” Dean asks softly, his voice sounding just a little bit deeper than usual.

 

The blue-eyed boy is biting his lip and still staring at him with wide eyes, but all at once he surges his own hips upwards – meeting Dean's, and they groan in unison. Dean's mind goes blank for a moment, and he just stares down at Castiel.

 

“I think I'm fine,” Cas says, sounding a little surprised. He puts his hand on the back of Dean's neck, pulling him into a deep kiss again and threading his fingers through Dean's hair.

 

Dean is definitely more than fine. He practically feels like flying as he sets up a slow rhythm and grinds down on Cas, their dicks rubbing together through their clothes. Dean can't help but moan a little, because Castiel meets his thrusts shallowly and shyly, but _fuck,_ it feels so good. He is so turned on right now.

 

It's far better than when they were drunk and made out, especially since Castiel is _relaxed._ The blue-eyed boy is kissing him hungrily, and one of his hands presses flat against Dean's back, pulling him more down on himself. Dean moans a little louder at that.

 

They're both breathing hard, and the way Castiel is holding on to his back and his shoulder is unbelievably _hot_ , and it all just feels fucking fantastic. Dean nips gently at Cas' bottom lip, earning another low moan from the blue-eyed boy, before he pulls away. He realizes that he knows exactly what he wants to do now – to give Cas a blowjob, to have his cock in his mouth.

 

As magical as this dry-humping is already feeling, to give Castiel a blowjob is probably going to feel like heaven. And it'd be a good first step into their sexual relationship.

 

“Don't stop,” Cas says, trying to pull him down again. “I'm good. Really.” He almost sounds _needy,_ and it almost makes Dean come in his pants right then and there. He chuckles lowly, shushing Cas. “We don't stop,” he assures him and kisses him briefly.

 

Then, he slides down Cas' body slowly, leaving a trail of kisses on his wine-red sweater. He wants to take the sweater off, since the thought of being skin to skin with Castiel is really turning him on even more. So, Dean grabs the hem of the sweater, but suddenly Cas just freezes. Immediately, Dean stops moving as Castiel looks at him with panic in his eyes – the ocean is so dark, as if a colossal storm were rushing it through. And Dean knows he's done something wrong.

 

 _Fucking hell._ He doesn't want Cas to have an anxiety attack because of him – again. “Talk to me. What's wrong?” he says gently, but still hastily. “Do you want to stop? Are we going too fast?”

 

Cas swallows, his throat is rippling, and he shakes his head. Dean sits up carefully, so their arousals don't touch, pressing his hands on Cas' chest and looking at him questioningly.

 

“I just want to... I mean, can I keep it on?” Cas says, literally rushing the words out of his mouth, not returning Dean's look.

 

Dean lets out a relieved sigh. _That's all? Thank god._ “Of course, baby.” The last word just slips out of his mouth, even though he had no intention to say it. In a split second, he realizes what he just said to Castiel and his cheeks start to burn immensely.

 

For a moment, there's silence. Then, a smile spreads across Cas' face and he returns Dean's look again. “Come here,” he says, reaching his hands out for Dean, who obliges.

 

They kiss again, slow and gentle at first, but soon enough it's a passionate kiss once again. And then Dean repeats what he did just a few minutes ago. Once more, he's sliding down Castiel's body, leaving a trail of kisses on his sweater – without making the same mistake again – until he's lying comfortably to suck him off.

 

He tugs at the hem of Cas' sweatpants. “What about them? Can I take them off?” He himself notices how rough his voice is sounding right now.

 

Castiel stares at him with wide eyes yet again, but this time there's no panic in his eyes – the ocean has settled down – and he's definitely aroused. After just a few seconds, Cas nods. Though, Dean changes his mind, since he doesn't want to rush things. He only pulls Cas' sweatpants down a bit, looking at the other boy's visible erection through his boxers that already formed a tent. He swallows, licking his lips, and starts to palm Cas cautiously.

 

Cas' breath catches, and he closes his eyes, pressing his eyebrows together, but then he starts to moan with pleasure. Dean waits until he's sure that the blue-eyed boy won't freak out, then he pulls Cas' boxers down as well. And Castiel willingly lifts his hips, though he still doesn't open his eyes.

 

Dean traces his fingers over Cas' inner thighs, dipping down and gently nipping at the soft skin. Castiel is bigger than he expected him to be, and Dean just wants to take him into his mouth and suck him off until Cas is screaming his name. But he reminds himself to go slow. This isn't about him, this is about this gorgeous boy who's allowing him to do this right now. And Dean wants to do it the right way, and he wants to make it good for Cas.

 

His thumb brushes over Castiel's hipbone, and first he takes Cas' dick in his hand. Dean only has to move his hand up and down a few times, then Cas is fully hard. He watches Cas' face, his reactions – the way his mouth is open, and more and more moans are climbing up his throat, and _dear lord,_ these are the most delicious sounds Dean's ever heard; the way one of Cas' hand is gripping the bed sheet is really incredibly hot; and his cheeks and his neck are faintly blushed from arousal.

 

When Dean finally takes Castiel's cock into his mouth, he does it slow. Cas' back arches up a little bit as Dean sinks down slowly. _Fuck._ Castiel's dick is warm, heavy, throbbing and _perfect,_ and Dean feels his own aching dick that's still trapped in his boxers and sweatpants. He relaxes his throat, enjoying the feeling of Cas' cock on his tongue. He starts to bop up and down, almost teasingly slow, but setting a steady rhythm. Castiel's moans grow louder with every passing moment, making Dean throb in his pants.

 

After a while, he pulls of, tonguing at the vein on the underside of Cas' penis before only taking the tip into his mouth – sucking hard. Cas cries out particularly loud at that, and Dean grins to himself before he swallows him down again, bobbing his head up and down. All of a sudden, there are fingers in his hair, tugging at his strands, and he moans around Castiel's pulsing length.

 

This is going so much better than he could have hoped, and soon Dean tastes salty precum in his mouth. He can feel that Cas is close, and the blue-eyed boy twists his fingers harder into Dean's hair, wriggling his hips and trying not to thrust into Dean's mouth. Slowly but surely, Castiel's moans are changing – they are just a little high-pitched – and he tugs at Dean's hair more roughly, who's welcoming the slight pain on his scalp.

 

Dean continues bobbing up and down Cas' shaft, picking up pace, although Castiel tries to pull him off. “Dean, I'm.. I'm gonna...,” Cas pants, but he can't even finish the sentence, and Dean doesn't even think about pulling off. He keeps Cas' dick in his mouth, wanting nothing more than to taste the cum of this gorgeous boy. Just a few moments later, Castiel's cock is twitching as he shoots his release down Dean's throat, who swallows all of it, savoring the taste and the feeling. In addition to this awesomeness already, Dean baths in delight when he hears the blue-eyed boy groaning _his_ name.

 

He just continues to suck Cas off, working him through his orgasm. When he swallowed every drop of Castiel's cum and Cas sagged into his pillows, Dean pulls off of Cas' now drooping dick with a wet _plop._ And only then, he realizes his boxers and also his sweatpants are stained with his own cum.

 

_Oh._

 

But yes, sucking Castiel off was definitely this good. Dean starts to grin, licking his lips, and stares at Cas, who's just laying there. Cas' lips are still parted and he's trying to catch his breath. Dean tugs him back into his boxers and sweatpants with gentle hands before crawling up the bed and lying next to the blue-eyed boy. He grimaces at the stickiness inside of his pants, but before he can clean himself up, he needs to know something.

 

“Are you okay?” he whispers.

 

Cas turns his head to him, looking at him with big, round, _blue_ eyes, and Dean's heart leaps out of his chest. The ocean is extending for miles and miles – the clearest and deepest _blue_ that's ever existed, shining and sparkling as if a thousand suns were hiding under the idle waves. Castiel lets out a low chuckle, rolling over so that he's lying on his side now, and draping an arm over Dean's hip. “I've never been better.”

 

Dean touches Cas' face, stroking his cheek and thumbing at his bottom lip. “You didn't have an anxiety attack,” he states quietly.

 

Castiel starts to smile. “I didn't have an anxiety attack,” he says, a little bit in disbelief, and then he's kissing Dean.

 

Dean remembers that not every boy likes to kiss after a blowjob, but Cas doesn't seem to waste much thought on this.

 

“That was incredible,” the blue-eyed boy whispers in between lazy kisses.

 

Dean grins against Cas' lips. “Absolutely.” He wants to continue kissing Castiel, but the other boy pulls away, seeming nervous all over again. “What about you?” he asks.

 

“What do you mean?” Dean asks, furrowing his brow. “I'm good. I _loved_ doing it, and I'm really happy that you were able to enjoy it.”

 

Cas smiles sheepishly at him. “I'm glad to hear this. But that's not what I meant. I actually meant your... do you want me to...?” His cheeks redden, and then the penny drops.

 

“ _Oh,”_ Dean breathes, biting his lip. “I already came,” he admits quietly, starting to blush as well.

 

Cas looks at him surprised. “When?”

 

“When you did.”

 

Castiel's fingers flex on Dean's side, and he nods, looking weirdly... _relieved?_

 

Dean sighs, smiling softly at the blue-eyed boy. He's actually glad now that he already came in his pants, no matter how gross (and maybe a little bit embarrassing) that may be. This way Cas doesn't have to do something, and it's obvious that he'd be unable to cope with that at the moment. But everything's fine. It was amazing what they did, and it's even more amazing that Castiel was able to allow Dean to do it.

 

He runs his fingers through Cas' messy hair. “Small steps,” he says, and Cas looks at him, swallowing with a click. “Small steps,” he agrees quietly.

 

Dean presses a gentle kiss to Castiel's lips, and there's a flutter in the pit of his stomach. He _did_ make Cas feel good. He can't help but to start grinning at that thought.

 

“We're okay, right?” he asks the blue-eyed boy, smiling at him.

 

Cas returns his smile immediately. “Yeah. We're okay, Dean.”

 


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took me a little while longer. The last few days weren't good days and I had a bit writer's block. But now, I'm able to write again. Also, this chapter is very long, and I hope you will enjoy it :) 
> 
> ~ KC

Today, Lucifer is supposed to come back and Cas starts to wonder at what time his brother will arrive back home. Maybe he will be already there, when Cas comes home from his early shift at Pamela's diner. It was nice to have the house all to himself, but he's missed his big brother. Though, he really can't say that he didn't took advantage of that.

 

A smile sneaks onto his lips at this thought, and the whipped cream that was supposed to land in the cup full of hot chocolate misses it about a few inches. Cas stares at the blob of whipped cream on the table. “Fuck,” he mutters under his breath and wipes it up.

 

He tries it again, actually concentrating on the task now, and this time the whipped cream lands in the cup. Cas brings the order to the right table, cursing himself in his mind. Such contretemps are happening again and again since he started his shift this morning, and he's a little embarrassed by that. Pamela already even asked him if he's not feeling good.

 

But Castiel isn't _sick._ He's just feeling as if... as if he's floating on a cloud high up in the sky. It's a bit odd, and it makes his skin tingle, and there's also a vibrant sensation in his chest – but he's feeling _good,_ surprisingly good. He just isn't able to focus properly on anything, because his head is so full with thoughts about yesterday, and there are also a lot of pictures of the things that happened the day before. Cas tries not to think about it too much, but that isn't really working, so he's glad when his shift is finally over.

 

He leaves the diner after he hugged Pamela, ready to walk home. It's snowing again. Since Sunday it snows every now and then, but always a little bit heavier. It's cold, and the sharp wind is nipping at his exposed skin right away. Cas has forgotten his scarf at home, what already pissed him off this morning, when he walked to the diner. Now, he just wants to get home as fast as possible and starts walking. But he only makes a few steps down the sidewalk, when a car stops right beside him and the driver beeps at him. Cas jumps, and for a moment his heartbeat accelerates – and certainly not in a good way.

 

Then he recognizes his brother's car. Lucifer winds the car window on the passenger side down, leaning over the center control. “Hello, dear brother!”

 

Cas scowls at him, but his heart is already calming down. “What are you doing here?”

 

“Picking you up,” Lucifer says, rolling his eyes at him, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

 

“And trying to give me a heart attack?” Cas grumbles.

 

Lucifer huffs a laugh. “I thought you already saw me. I really didn't want to scare you. Come on, get in the car. Or do you want to walk home in this weather?”

 

Lucifer is right. The blowing snow intensifies with every moment, and Castiel really doesn't want to walk home. He gets in the car and his brother sets off, grinning at him.

 

“Since when you're back?” Cas asks, turning on the seat heater.

 

“For about two hours or so,” Lucifer says. “Admit it, you've missed me.” He doesn't stop grinning at his little brother, but Cas snorts. “You wish,” he says, but he's grinning back at Lucifer.

 

During the drive, Lucifer asks him how work went and how his day was so far, but they arrive at home only a few minutes later. And when they're in the kitchen, Lucifer pours orange juice into two glasses, giving one to Castiel, and he starts to tell him all about the professional development. Cas really tries to listen carefully to his big brother, but there's still _something else_ on his mind, and he still isn't able to focus properly. Though, he does hear the most important part: it might be that Lucifer could already move up the ladder and become manager in less than two months, so at the turn of the year.

 

He sits down at the kitchen table, nipping at his orange juice. He's happy for Lucifer and also proud of him. This is a big step and definitely good news. Cas smiles at his brother. But his brain opts out, when Lucifer starts to tell him about every day in detail. He hears that there was reasonable food at the reasonable hotel, there were good lectures but also not so good lectures, but all in all it was nice. Though, Castiel's thoughts are rather quickly drifting back to a certain green-eyed boy.

 

Actually, he still can't believe that _this_ really happened. He pinched himself quite a few times, just to make sure that he's awake and that this isn't a dream – well, you never know. But since he didn't wake up, this is not a dream apparently. This is the reality, this is _his reality._ And his reality contains now the fact that _Dean Winchester gave him a blowjob._ As impossible as it already sounds, it's far more astonishing that Castiel didn't have an anxiety attack. He didn't freak out, and he didn't push Dean away, and it was just fucking amazing.

 

Okay, yeah. There was a tiny moment, when he panicked briefly. Dean wanted to take his sweater off and that did freak Cas out a little bit. But it was fine. Dean wasn't mad at him for not wanting to take his sweater off. He could just keep it on. It just happened so suddenly, and Castiel wasn't ready for it, because he's insecure about his body and his scars. Dean didn't even question it, though Cas knows that they have to talk about this, but in that very moment, it was okay.

 

God, can a person actually be _perfect?_ Perfection is such an abstract construct, and it probably just lies in the eye of the beholder. So, maybe it is actually possible that Dean _is_ perfect – or at least, the green-eyed boy is perfect to Cas.

 

But altogether, their first step into a sexual relationship was just – as Dean would put it – _awesome._ It was fucking awesome. Cas was actually able to allow this to happen, and fucking hell, it was _so_ worth it. And there was no anxiety inside of him at all, no poisoning thoughts, no creepy fears, no discomfort in any of his bones. There was just _Dean,_ and his green eyes, and his sweet and passionate kisses, and his gentle and strong hands, and his hot and wet mouth around his cock...

 

Cas has to swallow, tightening his grip around his glass with orange juice. Thank god, Lucifer is engrossed in talking, otherwise he would notice that Cas is about to turn red, because of his thoughts. Fuck, what is Dean doing to him? No matter what it is, though – Castiel thinks it's awesome. Of course, he is still nervous, and he is sure that this nervousness won't just disappear all of a sudden. Bu no matter how nervous he still may be, he's also sure that they can continue venturing into their sexual relationship. Cas is sure that he's able to do that – together with Dean's help.

 

Castiel wants to keep his mind off the endless possible ways – everything they could do and try – and he really shouldn't think about that _right now._ But... huh, that he's even able to think about this without freaking out, that's actually remarkable. And really, he's more excited than anything. Yes, Dean certainly does him so fucking good.

 

Deep in thought, he's smiling crookedly to himself, and he flinches when suddenly Lucifer snaps his fingers right in front of his face. Surprised, Castiel looks up and at his brother, who's grinning down at him. “What?” he asks, trying to recall what's the last thing Lucifer said to him, but at the end he didn't listen to him anymore. Though, Lucifer doesn't seem to be mad about it.

 

“Who are we thinking about?” he asks, still grinning.

 

“Nothing,” Cas says instantly, blushing when he realizes his brother asked _who_ and not _what_ he's thinking about. He bites his lip.

 

Lucifer leans against the table, crossing his arms in front of his chest and looking down at his little brother with one raised eyebrow. “Of course I'm only guessing, but I think we're already on the right subject.”

 

Cas returns Lucifer's look questioningly. He's confused. “What are you talking about?”

 

“Dean,” Lucifer says, again with this undertone as if it's obvious.

 

Well, maybe it _was_ obvious, Cas thinks. “What about Dean?” he asks his brother.

 

“He's your boyfriend.”

 

“Yeah. So?” Cas asks, scratching his cheek.

 

“I want to meet him.”

 

“You have met him,” Cas says, still confused. What's Lucifer's point?

 

Lucifer lets out a sigh. “I mean, I want to meet him as your official boyfriend.”

 

Castiel looks at his big brother in disbelief. “No,” he breathes.

 

“Yes,” Lucifer says and nods. “Dad isn't going to do it, so it's my job to intimidate him.”

 

Cas snorts, but he doesn't stop to look at Lucifer in disbelief. “You're not serious, are you?”

 

Lucifer rolls his eyes. “Of course, I'm serious. I want you to introduce me to your boyfriend.”

 

Cas doesn't know what to say to that. But he has watched enough movies and TV shows to know already that this is going to be awkward as fuck. “Are you really sure about this?” he asks, hoping to convince his brother otherwise.

 

But Lucifer looks at him sternly. “I'm dead certain about this. And I won't take no as an answer, especially because I'm not even asking you. Tell Dean: tomorrow evening, dinner at 6 pm, here at our house.”

 

“ _Tomorrow?”_ Cas asks, thunderstruck.

 

“Yes. The sooner, the better.” With that Lucifer leaves the kitchen, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

  
Cas slums a little in his chair, letting out a long sigh. This is great. _Absolutely fantastic._ Yet another thing to be nervous about. He goes into his room, sitting down on his bed, leaning against his pillows and stretching his legs. This is also unexpected. Castiel didn't think about this possibility, that his brother would want to meet Dean _officially._ He knows that Lucifer is only trying to protect him and to help him, but that doesn't change the fact that this dinner is going to be awkward. Somehow, he has to make it clear to his brother what Dean really means to him – Cas huffs a humorless laugh; yeah, because he is so good at this sort of thing.

 

Grimacing, he grabs his phone and dials Dean's number. It's saved in his phone contacts, of course, but he likes to know it by heart.

 

“Hey, sunshine,” Dean answers the call, and Cas can hear the smile in Dean's voice. He also feels a flutter in his heart, a pleasurable traction – it's the same flutter he felt when Dean called him _baby._

 

“Hey, Dean,” Cas says, smiling softly.

 

“What's up?”

 

“I have to tell you something,” he says, biting his lip.

 

“And what?”

 

In his mind's eye, Castiel can see how Dean is furrowing his brow slightly. “Lucifer wants to meet you. _Officially,”_ he adds.

 

“Okay,” Dean says slowly. “And when?”

 

“Tomorrow, 6 pm, at our house, for dinner.”

 

“Oh my god,” Dean says quietly, and Cas lets out a chuckle. “I know it's a bit short notice, but well, I've also met Sam officially,” he tries to calm them both down.

 

“That's something different,” Dean grumbles. “Sam is my _little_ brother. Your _big_ brother is more... authoritative.”

 

“ _Authoritative,”_ Cas says, chuckling a bit. “Probably true. So, will you come? I mean I'm asking, even though I don't think that you really have a choice.”

 

Dean groans quietly. “Ugh. But yeah, I'll be there. And it will be awkward.”

 

“Super fucking awkward,” Cas corrects him.

 

“Mh,” Dean makes.

 

“What?” Castiel wonders quietly.

 

“You sound cute and hot at the same time, when you're cussing.”

 

Cas chuckles lowly, shaking his head to himself. “We'll see us tomorrow. Don't be late.”

 

He knows that Dean isn't less than nervous as he is. Somehow, that calms him down a little for the moment. To be nervous together is better than to be nervous on his own, Cas decides.

 

The next day, he has to go grocery shopping with Lucifer for the dinner tonight. Cas is still nervous and therefore, he is very uneasy in his mind. His brother notices it and tries to calm him down.

 

“I just want to make sure that he treats you right, Castiel, and that he does you good. I want to get to know him, because he's a part of your life. Don't worry, I won't scare him away.”

 

Yeah, that's _very_ reassuring.

 

Dean is in fact even over-punctual. At 5:48 pm, the doorbell is ringing and Cas answers the door, since Lucifer is in the kitchen and busy with cooking. Cas is wearing dark jeans and a blue sweater that's not only matching his eyes but also his socks. Dean is wearing worn out blue jeans and a black t-shirt under a red plaid shirt and his leather jacket. He is beautiful as ever and for a few seconds, Castiel's nervousness fades away completely. He is glad that Dean didn't dress up – his brother should meet the green-eyed boy as he really is, and Dean's current outfit already shows a little bit of his personality.

 

“Hey,” Cas says softly, and Dean smiles at him. He always starts smiling when he sees Castiel, who thinks that that's something that's calming him down successfully.

 

“Hey,” Dean replies, entering the house, shrugging his leather jacket off and hanging it on the coat rack before he hugs Cas briefly. And yes, it's pretty obvious that Dean is really nervous. Cas tries to return the smile as reassuringly as possible, but the truth is he is really nervous as well. So, he might not be qualified to calm Dean down right now.

 

He sighs, taking Dean's hand. “Let's get it over with.”

 

Dean grimaces, but he follows him into the kitchen. Lucifer looks up when they enter the room, cleaning his hands with a dishtowel, in order to be able to shake Dean's hand.

 

For dinner, there are chicken breast fillets, potato wedges, lamb's lettuce with salad dressing, and waffles with powdered sugar as dessert. Cas is a little surprised that his brother applied a lot of effort, but he appreciates it nonetheless.

 

At the beginning, it's indeed really awkward – really super fucking awkward – and Cas doesn't know what to say, since he's never been in such a situation before. This is so new. He has never had a boyfriend before, therefore he's never had someone he could introduce his brother to before. And now, Lucifer is scrutinizing Dean, who seems to feel a little uncomfortable as well. Castiel remembers that this is new for the green-eyed boy, too. Dean's never had a serious relationship before as well. That's probably the reason why he's looking so tensed – he wants to make a good impression, he doesn't want to mess this up. Cas reminds himself to smile. This is just a his-brother-gets-to-meet-his-boyfriend-dinner and not a last meal, even though you still have to put the word _just_ in quotation marks.

 

Lucifer asks Dean all sorts of questions during dinner, and Castiel stays a bit out of the conversation for the time being. Dean answers all the questions, politely and at first a little shyly (what's really sweet, or so Cas thinks at least), though slowly but surely he starts to unbend and to relax. As a result, Cas is able to start relaxing as well, although he can read off Lucifer's face that his brother isn't sure yet what to think of the green-eyed boy.

 

Sure, Dean has a steady job and he has a little brother, so he is able to carry responsibilities. But being Castiel's boyfriend is a whole different thing. Cas knows that Lucifer just wants to protect him and doesn't want him to get hurt. Lucifer doesn't know yet what kind of person Dean really is, he doesn't know _Dean_ yet, and that the green-eyed boy would never hurt Cas.

 

In turn, Cas doesn't know how he's supposed to tell his brother about the we-are-soulmates- and the we-belong-to-each-other-stuff. After all, it _does_ sound really cheesy. And honestly, how often does this kind of stuff actually happen in real life?

 

He is a little lost in thought, when they clean up the kitchen, but no one mentions it. They're almost done, when the doorbell rings. Lucifer goes and answers the door, leaving Dean and Castiel alone for a moment, while he tries to get rid of the man on their front porch who wants to sell him something.

 

Dean takes advantage of this moment immediately and nudges Cas. “You're okay?” he asks, leaning against the kitchen counter right next to him. Castiel's heart flutters a bit, but a smile touches the corners of his mouth. Their hands, arms, shoulders and legs are touching. He nods. “I'm okay.”

 

“I think I'm doing well so far, aren't I?” Dean asks, biting his lip to hide his grin.

 

But he makes Cas laugh and lean even more against him, right in the moment when Lucifer comes back into the kitchen. Castiel looks at his big brother and he sees something flashing over Lucifer's face, a subtle expression, but he isn't sure what it was – maybe wonder, maybe surprise. He looks at Dean and notices the small gap between their bodies that Dean created out of politeness. He probably doesn't know what he's allowed to do, when Lucifer is around. Cas smiles softly. Maybe it _is_ astonishing and also surprising to see him like this, especially for his brother. Though, it's making a difference apparently.

 

Because after Dean left – he kissed him on the cheek when Lucifer wasn't looking – his brother asks him to join him in the living room. They sit down on the couch, both of them at the edge with their feet on the floor. Cas is wringing his hands a little bit, and Lucifer is resting his elbows on his legs and clasping his hands. He looks at his big brother questioningly, feeling his nervousness starting to flare up again. It's harder to stay relaxed, when Dean isn't there.

 

“And? What do you say?” Cas asks and starts to chew on the inside of his cheek. Even though, it doesn't really matter what Lucifer says about Dean, whether he likes him or not, Castiel wants his brother to approve of Dean. It would make this whole thing even harder, if Lucifer disliked the green-eyed boy.

 

Lucifer sighs, but he's smiling at him. “I accept him.”

 

Castiel's eyebrows shoot towards the ceiling in surprise. _That's it? It's actually this easy?_ “Really?” he asks out loud.

 

His brother shrugs his shoulders a bit. “Well, he seems like a good person, and he certainly does you good. That's all that matters, so why should I say something against him? And I understand now.”

 

“You understand what now?” Cas wonders, wrinkling his brow.

 

Lucifer chuckles. “When he made you laugh, I saw the way you looked at him, and I realized what he must mean to you. I'm happy for you, Cas.”

 

Cas stops chewing on the inside of his cheek and he smiles at his brother. “Thank you for not scaring Dean away.”

 

Lucifer giggles at that. “Maybe I'm just saving this for later.”

 

On Friday, Cas is free and that means he has a lot of time to think – once again. Lucifer is working, and so is Dean. His friends are busy with work, or school, or college. Everyone is busy with something, while Cas spends his morning in his bed in his pajamas, just listening to music and following his mind wherever his thoughts are taking him. Mostly, he's thinking about Dean, and what they did – what Dean did.

 

Dean gave him a blowjob. And Castiel didn't have an anxiety attack. He smiles to himself, tucking one arm behind his head and staring at the ceiling. He didn't have an anxiety attack, and he knows the reasons why, although he's still amazed. Dean and he talked about it. They didn't rush it – they went slow, and Dean was so gentle and careful and understanding. Cas did think it through and he was sure he wanted to do it. And it was simply a splendid first step into their sexual relationship.

 

So now, he just has to think something else through again. It's been on his mind since Dean gave him the blowjob. There was another small moment, when Cas panicked briefly – when he thought that he had to return the favor right away. To be honest, that scared Castiel. There is a difference between receiving and giving – at least, for him. He was able to allow Dean to give him a blowjob and not to freak out because of it. But he would have freaked out, if he had touched Dean.

 

Though, what's on his mind now is that he thinks he's ready to return the favor. He's thinking about it now, and that's the first step. And the more he thinks about it, the more he's sure of wanting to try it. He wants to give Dean a blowjob.

 

For a few seconds, he stares blankly at the ceiling, chewing on his lip. Fuck. What's the next step? Oh yeah, talking to Dean. Yeah, he should definitely do this. He has to talk to Dean about this. They are able to talk about these things, simply because it's necessary. If they didn't talk to each other, this relationship wouldn't work. What did Dean tell him? _Communication and commitment are key._ And that is so true.

 

Cas still waits for his anxiety to show up again. He kind of expects it to jump out of a dark corner of his mind, knocking his new-found confidence out. But nothing happens. He's lying in his bed, totally relaxed, and there's still a small smile playing on his lips. Who would have thought that this is actually possible? He certainly doesn't miss his anxiety, but he also won't take this state of mind for granted, since he doesn't know for how long it will last. All he can do for now is to enjoy it and to make the most of it.

 

At lunch time, Castiel rolls out of bed and turns his music off. Absentmindedly, he goes downstairs and into the kitchen, having the feeling again as if he's on a cloud. He wonders if that's a cliche, or if he's the only one who's experiencing this ease that comes along with loving Dean. Cas has never been in love before. Hell, he didn't even want to fall in love. Then, he met Dean and it just happened. Their situations and their relationship are not easy, due to their pasts, but simply loving Dean is very easy.

 

Castiel lets his mind wander like this while he eats some pasta salad his brother bought. He's feeling at ease right now – with his surroundings, with himself, and with his thoughts.

 

He sends a text to Lucifer, letting him know that he's meeting with Dean, before leaving the house. It's snowing ever so slightly. Small snowflakes are whirling idly through the air, landing on the ground around him. Cas loves winter. He loves the snow, he loves the cold, he loves everything that comes with this season. Heavy sweaters, tea, hot chocolate, the smell of cinnamon, coiling oneself up under blankets in a warm bed, frozen puddles, frozen lakes, the quiet, scarves, gloves, caps,... He thinks about all these things on his way to the house of the Winchesters, remembering that Sam told him Dean hates winter, since their mom died when it had been winter. It makes Castiel feel sad and he bites his lip. It seems so surreal that this season by itself is so beautiful to him, but for Dean it means something entirely different.

 

Shaking his head, he tucks his hands tightly into the pockets of his trenchcoat, wondering if he should invest in a proper winter jacket. But he doesn't mind the cold, he's basically welcoming it. And Dean always wears that leather jacket, no matter what. Maybe they're both going to catch a cold someday soon. But for now, Cas concentrates on the fact that Dean and he have to talk. After all, they agreed on how important it is that they talk to each other about such stuff.

 

It's actually kind of funny – Cas and Dean arrive at the house at the same time. Castiel just stepped onto the front porch, when the Impala parks in the driveway. Dean gets out of the car, pleasantly surprised to see him. “Cas!” he says with a huge smile. “What are you doing here?” He walks over to him, immediately wrapping his arms around Cas in a tight hug.

 

Cas chuckles, hugging Dean back. “I wanted to see you. How was work?”

 

“As always, fun and exhausting,” Dean replies, pecking him on the cheek and taking his hand. They enter the house, shrugging their jackets off. Dean takes his trenchcoat from him, hanging it on the coat rack next to his leather jacket. “Does this thing actually keep you warm?” he asks skeptically.

 

Cas shrugs his shoulders. “It does its job. What about your leather jacket? At least, I'm wearing a scarf.”

 

Dean huffs a laugh. “Fine, fine,” he says a little gruffly, but he's smiling at Castiel. “Do you want to drink something? I think we have beer, if dad didn't drink all of it.”

 

He takes his scarf off, hanging it next to his trenchcoat, and follows Dean into the kitchen. “No, I'm fine for now. I wanted to talk with you.” Of course, now is the right moment for his nervousness to return. It's already crawling beneath his skin. He swallows, leaning against the kitchen counter and looking at the crammed cupboards. Everything in this house looks so crammed together, and all the rooms are small. Besides, it's also an old house, but surprisingly everything is working so far. Dean told him that he thought they would have problems in a house this old at the beginning, right after they moved in. But the house isn't as bad as they thought it would be, even though it still doesn't seem to be a home for Dean and his brother. Speaking of...

 

“Is Sam in his room?” Cas wonders.

 

“No, he's at Kevin's place. He's spending an awfully lot of time there. Well, it would be awful, if it didn't do him this good. I'm glad they are friends now. Kevin helps him with all his homework and school projects, and his place is certainly nicer than ours. Sam also can play video games with Kevin.”

 

Cas nods, avoiding Dean's questioning look.

 

“What do you want to talk about?”

 

“Is your dad home?” Cas asks, and Dean bites his lip. “No, he's god knows where. Probably a bar. What's wrong?”

 

“I just wanted to know if we're alone,” he says evasively.

 

“Because you wanted to talk with me,” Dean says, taking his hand and intertwining their fingers slowly. Castiel nods, huffing a breath. “We said it's important that we talk with each other. Though, I'm still not good at this.”

 

“Hey, me neither. It's okay. Just tell me what's on your mind,” Dean says softly.

 

Cas notices that his nervousness wants to take control, but he keeps looking Dean in the eye. His heart starts to beat faster, and he wrinkles his brow slightly. He cocks his head to the side, pulling Dean a little closer to him. Again, the green-eyed boy is looking at him questioningly. Castiel likes that Dean is only marginally taller than him. He kisses Dean, slowly and gently, but pressing close to him. Dean is a bit taken aback, but he's kissing him back. Cas feels Dean's hands on his waist, carefully pulling him even closer. He puts his hands on the side of Dean's face and on the back of his head, threading his fingers through Dean's soft brown hair, messing it up. Does this already count as making out? Fuck, aren't they supposed to talk about it first?

 

But Cas makes no move to stop what they are doing right now. Suddenly, he's pressing Dean against the kitchen counter, and it definitely does not feel wrong. He hears Dean groan and pushes his tongue into Dean's mouth. Dean is clinging to his back, and there is a pleasantly warm feeling in the pit of Castiel's stomach. His nervousness faded and now it's only a background noise, slightly buzzing in the back of his mind, but it doesn't dare to strike at the moment – his confidence is too strong. Though, his confidence does get a mild crack, when Dean's hips are surging forward, meeting Castiel's. He pulls away, just an inch and not completely, but still.

 

And Dean? Dean apologizes instantly. “I'm sorry,” he murmurs. “I didn't mean to.”

 

Cas smiles a little breathlessly, shaking his head. “No, it's... it's okay.”

 

“What's gotten into you? Not that I'm complaining, but I thought you wanted to talk.”

 

“Um, yeah. Yeah, I did. I mean I do.” Cas licks his lips. “I thought about it, and I want to do what you did.” _Wow._ Couldn't he put this even more vaguely?

 

But Dean seems to understand what Castiel means right away. “You want to...?” He raises his eyebrows, and _oh shit,_ his pupils are dilating. Cas swallows, practically waiting for his anxiety to kick in, though nothing happens. He returns Dean's look calmly – although his heart is beating forcefully against his ribcage. But there's still no anxiety inside of him. That's a good thing, right?

 

Yes, that's a very good thing, he decides.

 

“Yes,” he says, stepping back a bit. He bites his lip, but he takes Dean's hand and leads the way out of the kitchen and upstairs into Dean's room. The green-eyed boy follows him without saying a word, and only in Dean's bedroom does Cas turn around to the other boy and looks at him again. Dean tilts his head, chewing on his bottom lip and shaking his head briefly.

 

“You don't have to do this, Cas,” Dean says, giving his hand a squeeze. Cas pulls him closer once again and they sit down on Dean's bed.

 

The thing is – Cas is still nervous, but there's also still no anxiety. It's a healthy nervousness, and as he's sitting there with Dean and looks into these green eyes, he realizes he really wants to do this. At least, he really wants to try it. Dean's green eyes bring him back to the lovely and calming clearing, and he wonders what's the worst that could happen. Sure, he could get an anxiety attack again, but he's here with _Dean_ , so maybe he won't get an anxiety attack. It worked before, why shouldn't it work again?

 

“Hey, you really don't have to do this,” Dean says again. “Especially because you don't look like you're ready to do it.”

 

Castiel's brow furrows. He feels ready, but he doesn't look ready? He's sure of wanting to try this, or is that only an illusion? Does he just want to be able to want it? No, he _does_ want it.

 

“I'm just nervous,” he says. “Remember? That's not a bad thing.”

 

Dean chuckles, kissing him. “That's still true.”

 

All of a sudden, Cas is rememering something that bothered him but got lost in his subconscious mind. “When you came to my place on Tuesday, before we started you said that you were nervous as well.”

 

“Yeah.” Dean nods, creasing his forehead in confusion. “So?”

 

“Why? Why were you nervous?”

 

“I guess for kinda the same reasons you were nervous, too.”

 

Now, Cas is a little confused. “But _why?_ You don't have any reason to be nervous. I already didn't understand it then, but I didn't ask.”

 

“Of course, I'm nervous as well. Why do you think I shouldn't be nervous?”

 

“Because you have more experience. You know what you're doing. You don't have to be afraid of having an anxiety attack. You don't...”

 

Dean puts a finger against his lips, shushing him. “Stop it. Stop talking, please,” he says, shaking his head. “Yeah, I have more experience and I may know what I'm doing, but this is new for me, too. This is different for me.”

 

Cas stares at Dean with wide eyes. “Really?”

 

“Really, babe.” Simply because of the way Dean is smirking at him, Cas knows this time he said this on purpose. “This means something to me. _You_ mean something to me. So, this is special for me. And I was afraid of you having an anxiety attack. I just wanted it to be good for you. I just wanted to make you feel good...” Now, the green-eyed boy starts rambling, and Castiel has to shush him.

 

“It was good. More than good. It was amazing. You made me feel good, and I want to do that for you too,” Cas says, finding his confidence again.

 

Dean bites his lip. “I said we're going your pace. This is your decision. If you're telling me you want to and that it's fine, then that's fine by me.”

 

Castiel exhales slowly before he starts to smile widely at his boyfriend. He's still nervous, but it's okay. “Can you lay down?” he asks Dean, who obeys instantly. For a moment, he just looks at the green-eyed boy and Dean waits patiently for him to make the next move. Castiel isn't sure for how much he's ready, but he thinks he can do what Dean did to him – giving him a blowjob.

 

Slowly, he crawls over to Dean and climbs on top of him, putting his hands a little awkwardly against Dean's cheeks. Dean looks up at him, a crooked smile is gracing his lips – as endearing as it is, Castiel leans down and kisses Dean. He takes his time, kissing Dean slowly and gently and maybe a little bit _exploring._ Cas really doesn't want to rush it, he really doesn't want to have an anxiety attack again. So, he's just concentrating on Dean.

 

Only Dean. His plump lips that feel amazing against his own lips and that felt maybe even more amazing around his cock. The way he's kissing him back, adapting exactly to the way and to the pace Cas is kissing him. And his taste. Castiel focuses mainly on Dean's taste, sliding his tongue into Dean's mouth. He doesn't think he will ever get enough of this.

 

He only realizes that he's kissing Dean harder, when the green-eyed boy starts to groan. A thrill runs through his bones, and his fingertips that are still connected to Dean's skin start to tingle. Cas pulls away, looking Dean in the eye and tracing his fingers over Dean's cheeks and his stubble. He grins down at the boy beneath him, and Dean returns his grin. Without thinking about it, Castiel lets his fingers run over Dean's whole face, his temples, his cheekbones, his jawlines. He traces Dean's bottom lip with his thumb before he dips down again to nip at it.

 

Dean's pupils are so dilated, it's actually turning Castiel on and he wonders if his eyes look like that as well when he looks at Dean. His heart is pounding in his chest as he kisses Dean again, while starting to grind down. Their hips meet and a small moan slips out of Cas. Dean's hands are on his waist, though he moves them slowly to Cas' back, clinging to him and pressing him down even more ever so slightly. Cas is shaking a little, but not because of an upcoming anxiety attack. He's shaking from anticipation.

 

Cas pulls away once more. Dean is panting and clearly wants to ask why they stopped kissing, but Castiel just moves his lips over Dean's cheek, his stubble and down his neck, nipping gently at the skin there. He remembers that Dean didn't give him a hickey, so he tries to avoid giving Dean one. But with every nip at his skin, there are small gasps punched out of the green-eyed boy. And Cas starts to wonder what noises Dean will make when he's sucking him off.

 

His heart skips a beat, when he realizes that he actually just thought this. Again, he's just waiting for the anxiety to come crawling back and making a fuss inside of his head, but still – _nothing._ He smiles against the side of Dean's neck. His mind and his heart knows that he's safe when Dean is there. Nothing bad is going to happen. Cas is able to do this. This is Dean. Everything's fine. He is safe here. No one is going to hurt him. He's doing this of his own free will.

 

Dean is looking up at him with these green eyes and he swallows, throat rippling a bit. “Are you okay?”

 

He's back at the clearing in the forest once again and smiles softly at Dean before leaning back down, crushing their mouth back together and kissing this beautiful boy passionately. Cas remembers everything Dean did on Tuesday and starts mirroring him. He slides down Dean's body, leaving a trail of kisses down Dean's white t-shirt while doing so. Dean pulls in a sharp breath, and maybe he's only realizing right now that this is actually happening.

 

“I'm okay,” he whispers, unzipping Dean's jeans. The green-eyed boy gasps loudly, but he's opening his legs willingly and lifting his hips, so Cas is able to pull his jeans down a bit. Dean's erection is visible, already forming a tent in his boxers, and Castiel notices his own rapidly hardening dick. He reminds himself that he's actually okay, that this is actually okay, and that he's actually allowed to enjoy it.

 

He breathes in, breathes out, feeling totally relaxed as he kneels there between Dean's spread legs. And then he starts to smirk and to palm Dean's half-hard dick through his thin boxers. Dean's eyes slip close and he bites his lip, trying to suppress his groans. Cas reaches his hand out, pulling Dean's lip away from his teeth. Dean's eyes flutter open and he returns his look rather questioningly.

 

“I want to hear you,” Castiel says quietly, dipping his thumbs under the waistband of Dean's boxers. The green-eyed boy is already panting, but he nods, the corners of his mouth quirking up. “Okay,” he breathes.

 

Cas takes a deep breath, pulling Dean's boxers down. He lets his fingertips dance over Dean's hip bones, down the inside of his thigh, digging his fingers a little into the skin before he presses a few open mouth kisses there, slowly making his way up again. Carefully, he takes Dean's dick into his hand, wrapping his fingers around Dean's shaft and exhaling slowly. He cringes just a bit at the touch skin to skin, but he starts moving his hand, stroking Dean's dick slowly.

 

Dean closes his eyes again as little moans slip out of his mouth. The sounds Dean's making seem to go straight into Castiel's dick, and he watches Dean's face fascinated. The green-eyed boy is flushed, and his back arches off the bed a little bit, when Cas brushes his thumb over Dean's slit. Feeling much more confident, Cas leans forward and runs his tongue where his thumb was just a few seconds ago. Dean lets out a low moan, causing even more blood to rush into Cas' cock. They're both full hard by now, and there's a pleasant burning in the pit of Cas' stomach and his skin is prickling. There's still no anxiety – _thank god –_ but there's a lot of excitement running through his veins. He wants to make Dean feel good now.

 

Castiel licks his lips before he takes only the head of Dean's penis in his mouth. He laves his tongue at Dean's now leaking slit, tasting salty precum in his mouth. Slowly, he sinks down, taking as much of Dean's considerable length in his mouth as he can, covering the remaining inches with his hand. He reminds himself to relax his throat as he starts bobbing up and down, trying to set a steady rhythm and massaging Dean's balls. Dean's groans grow louder with every passing moment, and Castiel feels his own throbbing cock trapped in his boxers and tight jeans.

 

He swallows around Dean's dick, noticing that Dean starts to tremble. Cas feels that the green-eyed boy is close and picks up pace. All at once, there are fingers running through his hair, gently gripping his strands, and for a small moment, there is a far too familiar cold dripping from his heart into his veins. Castiel stiffens, pulling off. He has to see Dean's face to remind himself again that this is _Dean,_ and not someone else. Dean would never hurt him, never force himself to do something he doesn't want to do. He has to remind himself again that he's okay and that he's safe here.

 

Dean is looking at him, confused and worried. “We can stop,” he says, swallowing. God, Dean's voice is soft, but also so rough, and Cas shakes his head, picking up courage again. “I'm fine,” he says, dipping back down and taking Dean's dick into his mouth again.

 

“Cas,” Dean mutters, but Castiel doesn't stop. He feels the ice in his blood thawing and simply focuses on Dean again, on Dean's hard penis in his mouth. He picks up pace once again, bobbing up and down faster, and the green-eyed boy starts to moan again.

 

Castiel sucks down hard, causing Dean to groan very loudly. He finds a rhythm again, and a feeling of warmth blooms in his chest, dispelling even the reminiscence of the cold that was inside of him just a few moments prior. Now, he's able to enjoy the heavy feeling of Dean's dick on his tongue completely. He's able to enjoy sucking Dean off until the green-eyed boy issues a warning. “Cas, I'm close,” he says, his voice weak.

 

Cas swallows Dean down one more time, humming around Dean's dick as an indication that he heard what Dean just said before he pulls off. It only takes a few more strokes and then Dean cries out his release, shooting ropes of white all over his own t-shirt. And Castiel just takes everything in – the way Dean is gripping the blanket underneath him with one hand, the way his face convulses for a split second before his whole body melts, the way he says _Castiel_ as Cas works him through his orgasm, and the way he's trying to catch his breath after Cas lets go of his softening dick.

 

“ _Holy fuck,”_ Dean murmurs with closed eyes, and Castiel smiles happily, pleased with himself.

 

Sounds like he did make the green-eyed boy feel good.

 

 

* * *

 

 

It actually takes Dean a few moments to catch his breath. As he opens his eyes, Cas is still kneeling between his legs, but the blue-eyed boy has tucked him back into his boxers. And Castiel is smiling, returning his look with glistening eyes. Dean remembers the moment when the mood changed suddenly, though. He stares at his boyfriend, squinting a bit. “Are you okay?”

 

Cas nods and his smile widens a bit. Dean sits up, wincing at the way his t-shirt is clinging to his skin where his cum is. He returns Castiel's smile a little hesitantly. “Are you sure?”

 

The blue-eyed boy nods again. “Yes,” he says quietly. “Did you like it?” he asks just a tad awkwardly.

 

But Dean has to chuckle. He rubs the back of his neck. “Yes, absolutely. You did amazing. Was it really okay for you?”

 

“Yes, Dean,” Cas says softly, scooting a little closer, but then he's grimacing and looking down.

 

 _Oh,_ Dean thinks. Cas is still hard. He bites the inside of his cheek for a second before he reaches a hand out and puts it on Castiel's hip. “Can I?” he asks gently. There's an expression of blank hesitation on Cas' face for a moment and he chews on his lip. But then he nods. “Yes, you can.”

 

Carefully, he urges the blue-eyed boy to switch places, so Cas is leaning against the headboard of Dean's bed. Again, Dean only frees Cas throbbing dick by pulling his jeans and boxers down a bit. He locks eyes with Cas, when he wraps his fingers around his cock. Cas' breath hitches and his throat ripples, but soon the first groan escapes his lips as Dean starts stroking him. Without thinking about it, Dean leans forward, capturing Cas' lips with his own and sliding his tongue into Cas' mouth. Cas is holding on to his shoulder and to the back of his head, moaning against his lips when Dean pulls away. A grin spreads across Dean's face, when Castiel starts to roll his hips upwards into the circle of his fingers. He could watch this gorgeous boy like this all day, but Cas doesn't last very long. He comes all over Dean's hand and his own sweater a bit – again, with Dean's name on his lips.

 

Dean's heart is hammering against his ribcage just at the sight of this, and he works Cas through his orgasm just like he did with him earlier. He looks down at the blue-eyed boy, who's breathing hard, tucking him back into his boxers. Both of their jeans are still open, but neither of them seems to mind it. Tilting his head, he looks at his fingers that are coated with Castiel's cum, pursing his lips. He locks eyes with Cas once more as he raises his hand to his mouth, licking the cum off his fingers. Cas watches him intensely with round _blue_ eyes before he suddenly grabs Dean and crushes their lips together, plunging his tongue into Dean's mouth.

 

At first, it's a passionate kiss, but they slow down quickly until they're only kissing lazily. Dean nudges his nose against Castiel's nose, opening his eyes and smiling. “You're okay?” he whispers, and Cas nods, returning his smile. Dean looks down at his t-shirt and then at Cas' sweater, letting out a chuckle. He runs his fingers through his hair. “We should change clothes.”

 

Cas fiddles with his sweater, nodding much less enthusiastically than he did just a few seconds ago. He starts to bite his lip. Dean looks at him, slowly getting up and walking to his closet. He gets an old navy blue sweater out that's been laying on the top shelf and that he hasn't worn in the last two years at least. He holds it up, thinking it should fit Castiel, and walks back to the bed where Cas is still sitting.

 

“Here, you can wear that,” he says softly, and Cas takes the sweater, shooting him a grateful look. Of course, Dean gave him something long-sleeved.

 

“Um, I'm gonna change in the bathroom,” Cas says quietly, getting up now as well.

 

Dean nods, smiling. “Okay. Just put your sweater into the laundry bin. I'll wash it for you.”

 

Cas disappears into the bathroom down the hall, and Dean changes in his bedroom, taking off his blue-yellow plaid shirt and the cum-stained white t-shirt, and getting a new simple black t-shirt out of his closet. When Cas comes back, he tells him to wait and throws the stained clothes into the washing machine quickly, turning it on.

 

His boyfriend is waiting for him, sitting on the edge of his bed. “Do you have to go?”

 

Cas shakes his head. “No, I'd like to stay, if I can.”

 

“Of course, you can stay. Come here.” Dean sits back down on the bed, back leaning against the headboard, and he pats the mattress beside him. Cas scrambles next to him, and Dean takes his hand, intertwining their fingers. “How do you feel?”

 

“Good,” Castiel answers. “I didn't have an anxiety attack again.” He smiles at Dean, who bites his lip. “But you looked once like you were about to panic.” Dean regrets saying this, when Cas breaks eye contact instantly and his smile disappears. Though, he knows that they have to talk about this.

 

“I'm not mad at you,” he assures Cas. “I just... I just want to understand.”

 

Cas looks at him again. “I know,” he says quietly. “And it's true. I didn't feel good for a moment.”

 

“What happened?” Dean presses a kiss to Castiel's hand.

 

“I just had to remind myself that it's okay, and that I'm safe. A few memories came back,” Cas admits a bit hesitantly.

 

“When I ran my fingers through your hair, right?” Dean says.

 

Castiel presses his lips together for a few seconds. “Yeah, that's what triggered me.”

 

“I'm sorry,” Dean says. “That's not what I wanted.”

 

“I know,” Cas says hastily. “It was not your fault. You still don't know everything. You're still learning how to deal with me. We're only together for not even three weeks. _I_ am sorry.”

 

“I don't want you to apologize, Cas. Not for something like this. I want to know everything that there is to know about you. I love learning new things about you, but also only at the pace you want me to know about them.”

 

There's a small smile tugging at the corners of Cas' mouth. He sighs. “You're perfect, do you know that?”

 

“What?” Dean says, dumbfounded. “I'm not perfect. I'm not even near being perfect.”

 

“You are perfect. To me, at least,” Castiel says quietly, squeezing his hand and putting his head on Dean's shoulder. “And for you to be able to understand why I had to remind myself that I'm safe here, you have to know that I had to do _this,_ when I got raped,” he tells him in a hushed tone.

 

Dean closes his eyes, swallowing. Guilt is pooling in the pit of his stomach. “You should have told me that sooner. I hadn't let you do this then. You didn't have to...,” he starts, but Cas lifts his head, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

 

“I wanted to do this, Dean. I wanted to try it, at least. I wanted to be able to do it – for you, but also for me. And I _was_ able to do it.” He puts a hand on Dean's cheek. “Please, don't be mad at yourself. It was my decision. I wanted to make you feel good.” Cas shrugs a little.

 

“You did,” Dean says quietly, smiling weakly at Castiel. “It was awesome.”

 

Cas returns his smile. “You have to realize that I want to step out of my comfort zone. I've already told you that you help me doing so. And you have to realize that you make me braver.”

 

Do you know this feeling, when it's summer and you step out of the house and into the sun, and just stand there, soaking up all the warmth, and feeling the heat on your skin? This is how Dean is feeling right now, when he hears his boyfriend's words. He gently kisses Cas, running his tongue over his bottom lip before sliding it into Cas' mouth. “You're the perfect one, angel,” he murmurs against Castiel's lips, when he pulls away again. There's a sensation of giddiness right inside of his heart, when he sees Cas blushing now. He starts to grin, and Cas shakes his head.

 

“But,” Dean says with a serious face, “small steps. We maintain this mixture of communication and commitment, and we keep going slow and your pace. Okay?”

 

“Okay,” Cas says with a smile, softly kissing him once. “But we continue _this,_ right?”

 

Dean bites his lip briefly before he starts grinning. “Oh, you took a liking to doing this sort of stuff with me.”

 

Cas lets out a chuckle, and _dear god, how can one person be so fucking gorgeous?_ “Maybe.” He grins back at Dean, putting one hand to the back of Dean's head, playing with his hair and moving his thumb soothingly over the side of Dean's neck. “But you like doing this sort of stuff with me too, right?”

 

“Right.” Dean huffs a laugh. “In fact, I absolutely love it.” He relishes Castiel's reddening cheeks for a moment before he continues talking. “But like we said, small steps. We have to get to know each other. Not just mentally, but also physically. I want you to feel good, when we're together like this. So, we have to talk to each other, and I promise it'll be fun finding out what the other likes the most.” He smirks at Castiel, who huffs a small breath, but there's a mild panic, wafting over the sea waves like mist. “What's wrong? Was that too much at once? Ah fuck, I just wanted to reassure you,” Dean says, brow furrowed.

 

Castiel shakes his head a little, opening his mouth, but he doesn't really seem to know what to say. “No, no. It wasn't too much. I mean...,” He shrugs again, wrinkling his forehead. “I mean, you're right. We have to get to know each other. I just... there's something else you have to know.”

 

Dean nods. “Okay.” He gives Cas the time he needs to sort his thoughts.

 

“Remember, when you did that to me, I didn't want to take off my sweater?” Cas says quietly. Dean nods again. “Yeah, I remember that.”

 

“You didn't even question it, and I was glad that you didn't ask any questions about it. But now, if we want to continue with this, you have to know the reason why.”

 

Dean doesn't know what else to do than to nod. He licks his lips. “And what is the reason why?”

 

“I wasn't ready for you to see...” Castiel hesitates.

 

“Your body?” Dean guesses.

 

Cas looks at him. A deep and old sadness is darkening the ocean. “Yeah. I mean, my scars.”

 

Dean knows immediately what Castiel is talking about – the blue-eyed boy had tried to kill himself and the failed suicide attempt probably left scars. Right? _Wait a second._ He doesn't know _how_ Castiel tried to kill himself. Fuck. How is he supposed to ask Cas about this?

 

But apparently, Cas is able to read his mind. “I haven't told you about my scars so far. I hate them. I hate the reasons why I have them. I'm even ashamed because of them.” He rubs over the sleeves of Dean's blue sweater he's wearing. “I actually don't want you to see them,” he admits. “They're disgusting. I can't really look at myself in the mirror anymore.”

 

Dean swallows with a click. His whole body feels unbearably heavy all of a sudden. “If you're not ready to show me your scars, then you don't have to show me them. But I can already promise you that I won't mind your scars.”

 

The waves are chasing each other sorrowfully in Castiel's blue eyes. “They're big and hideous. You can't ignore them and just pretend that they aren't there.” Cas starts to dig his nails into his lower arm, furrowing his brow. Dean takes his hand again. “I won't ignore them. I won't pretend that they aren't there. But I won't mind them. I won't care that they are there.”

 

“When I tried to kill myself, I slit both of my wrists. There was so much blood.” Cas bites his lip again. Dean stares blankly at him. “I was glad, you know? Because I thought it would all be over soon. I even wrote a suicide note for my brother. I wanted him to know why I did it. And then, he came home earlier than he should have and found me in the bathroom.”

 

There are tears in Castiel's eyes and he looks to the side. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you that. No one wants to hear something like this.”

 

Dean gently puts his hand on Cas' chin, turning his face back to him. Cas still tries to avoid looking him in the eye. “Hey, what did I tell you? I want to know everything about you. And I'm just glad when you're talking to me this openly.”

 

Cas bites his lip even harder, reluctantly raising his eyes to meet Dean's. “I trust you. I just don't want to make you sad, or overwhelm you with all of my problems,” he says weakly.

 

“I understand. And it does make me sad. But I'm here for you. I won't deliberately ignore your problems, but they also won't scare me away. Remember? Communication and commitment.”

 

The blue-eyed boy chuckles a little brokenly. “Communication and commitment,” he says quietly, wiping his eyes quickly and leaning more against Dean. “I ruined the good mood, right?”

 

Dean presses a kiss into Castiel's soft, messy hair. “Doesn't matter,” he mumbles. “Cheer up. You didn't have an anxiety attack, and you also didn't run away.”

 

Cas lifts his head a little, putting his chin on Dean's shoulder. This way their lips are only a few inches apart. Dean flashes him a small smile, leaning closer and pressing his lips on Castiel's. Cas kisses him back without hesitation, and when they pull away, there's a small smile touching the corners of his mouth. Dean takes a deep breath, immense relief filling his chest.

 

“Are you in the state of mind to continue our conversation about continuing to make out now?” he asks carefully. “We can delay it for a while.”

 

“No, it's fine. Um, where were we?”

 

“Are you sure about this?”

 

Cas nods. “We talked about my scars, right?”

 

“Yeah. And I said you don't have to show me them, if you're not ready to do so. We can go really slow with this. Small steps. Tiny steps.” He coaxes another chuckle out of the blue-eyed boy, and makes a suggestion. “You know, we can get to know each other really slow. Like, what about if we only see each other topless as a start?”

 

Because of the way Castiel is tilting his head and squinting his eyes, Dean knows that Cas is thinking about what he just said. And Dean knows that this is already challenging for the other boy. Cas' scars are probably mostly on his upper body, so Dean won't be mad if Cas says no. If he's not ready, he's simply not ready. But to his surprise, Castiel starts to nod suddenly.

 

“Yeah,” he says. “We can do this.”

 

“And you are sure about this?”

 

“Dean, it's really sweet that you always ask this, but you don't have to treat me with kid gloves 24/7,” Cas says, smiling genuinely at him.

 

He huffs a breath. “Okay, sorry. I've got into the habit of doing this.”

 

“It's really sweet, and I appreciate it greatly. But I think I'm also going to tell you if I'm not sure about something. I promise I'm going to be honest with you. And the truth is right now I am sure about this. If I've changed my mind, I will let you know. Okay?”

 

“Okay.” Dean nods, returning Castiel's smile finally. “So, when are we going to do it?”

 

“Now?” Cas asks, pinching the bridge of his nose, and Dean shakes his head. “No. I know – no kid gloves 24/7. But I think it'd be too much at a time. Am I right?”

 

“Yeah, you're right,” Cas admits.

 

“We can also wait a little with doing this,” Dean assures Castiel. But the blue-eyed boy lets out a hard sigh at that. Dean looks at him questioningly.

 

“No matter how long we wait, it won't get any easier for me. I'd say you give me time to take counsel with my pillow tonight and if I don't change my mind, we can meet here again tomorrow.”

 

“Already?” Dean wonders, surprised.

 

Castiel nods, shrugging. “If that's okay for you.”

 

“If you're okay with it, then I'm okay with it too.”

 

“I suggested it, so I _am_ okay with it.”

 

Now, it's Castiel who coaxes another laugh out of Dean. “Okay. That's settled then.”

 

Later that day, a few hours after Cas left the house, Dean talks with Sam over the phone, asking when he intends to come home tomorrow.

 

“I guess towards evening, if that's okay. Kevin wants to help me with an English essay and we want to play _Mario Kart.”_

 

“Of course that's okay,” Dean says, making a mental note to text Cas and to tell him that he should already come in the morning – no pun intended. He just wants to have as much time with the blue-eyed boy as possible. It's important for them, especially for Castiel, not to rush anything.

 

“What will you be doing?” Sam asks, a little sheepishly, and Dean knows that his little brother feels bad, because they haven't spent much time together lately. Dean is working a lot, and he has Cas. Sam is busy with school and he's spending a lot of time at Kevin's place. But Dean rather wants to know that Sam is safe and at a place where their father can't hurt him, even if that means they don't see each other that much. And Kevin does him good, the kid is a good influence. Dean is incredibly glad that the two are such good friends by now. Gabriel and Charlie often join them, and Missouri does them all good anyway.

 

“Cas will come over. I'll be fine. Have fun, and don't do something that I would do,” Dean says, snickering a bit. He can practically hear that Sam is rolling his eyes.

 

“Have fun, Dean. Hey, have you told him that you love him by now?” Sam says out of the blue.

 

Dean almost chokes on the sip of coke he just took. He hears his little brother chuckling. “Shut up, Sammy,” he grumbles.

 

“Just asking,” Sam says defensively. “Okay, we'll see us tomorrow evening. Maybe Mrs. Tran will drive me home. I think she likes me.”

 

“If not, I'm just a call away and then I'll pick you up,” Dean says, leaning against the kitchen counter. He starts smiling at Sam's next words. “I know.”

 

It's hard to fall asleep with nervousness pumping through your body system, but after another few hours Dean finally manages to do it. Though, he wakes up early and has to pass another two hours until Castiel is there. The blue-eyed boy wanted to come over right after breakfast. Dean dozes on the couch for a bit after he ate some scrambled eggs, since Saturday morning TV is crap.

 

Apparently, Castiel didn't change his mind about today, since he rings the bell eventually and interrupts Dean's nervous driven thoughts.

 

He puts on a smile and opens the front door, feeling a little less tensed when he sees his boyfriend. They agreed on wearing sweatpants again – it's a lazy Saturday. Dean is wearing gray sweatpants and a black hoodie. Castiel is wearing black sweatpants and Dean's navy blue sweater again, looking as gorgeous as always. His dark hair is even messier than usual, tousled by the wind. It's sexy. Dean's smile widens automatically. “Hey,” he says, stepping aside to let Cas in, who returns his smile instantly.

 

“Hello, Dean,” Cas says softly. Even though he's smiling as well, Castiel's nervousness is clearly noticeable. He takes off his trenchcoat and hangs it on the coat rack, and Dean carefully wraps his arms around Cas from behind.

 

“We don't have to,” he reminds Cas, whispering.

 

Castiel leans against him, turning his head and kissing him on the cheek. “It's okay. I'm okay. I promise,” he says quietly, taking Dean's hand and pulling him along. They go to Dean's bedroom, sitting down on the bed. Cas doesn't let go of Dean's hand.

 

“How about I start to take off my clothes?” Dean says, grinning at Cas and trying to calm their nerves. Cas huffs a small laugh and bites his lip, nodding. “Yeah. Okay.”

 

Dean leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to Castiel's lips. “Relax, okay?” Cas just nods again, watching how Dean grabs the hem of his hoodie and removes it slowly. He bites the inside of his cheek, letting his hoodie fall on the floor behind him. He doesn't know what to expect now. Castiel just stares at him, and Dean likes the way those blue eyes wander over his bare chest. He lets out a chuckle, scooting closer to Cas and putting a hand on his cheek.

 

“You're truly beautiful,” Cas says matter-of-factly, putting his hand over Dean's and pressing a kiss to the palm of Dean's hand.

 

Dean huffs a breath. “Do you really think that?”

 

“I know that. You're right in front of me and I see you.”

 

Dean nods slowly, pressing his lips together. His heart declares war on his ribcage. It still amazes him that Castiel thinks he's beautiful. Suddenly, there's a hand on his chest, right over his heart. He looks at Cas, who swallows, throat rippling just slightly. The blue-eyed boy spreads his fingers apart, caressing Dean's skin and leaning forward to capture Dean's lips with his own in a soft and brief kiss. Castiel touches him a little bit shyly and hesitantly, but he lets his fingers dance over Dean's neck, his collarbone, his shoulders, his arms, his ribcage and down his stomach. He presses a hand flat against Dean's stomach and puts the other one on his waist.

 

Biting his lip, Dean watches Cas a little bit nervously but mostly he's just fascinated by the mesmerized look in Castiel's blue eyes. He sees how Cas keeps reminding himself that he's allowed to do this and that he's allowed to enjoy it. Every now and then, his fingers hesitate for a moment before they start moving again. They only say something, when Castiel's fingers stop at the scar right above Dean's left nipple. “How did you get this?”

 

“Dad,” Dean replies simply, remembering the day John threw a still half-full beer bottle to the floor. The shards were scattered everywhere and he fell on his knees to clean up the mess he made. Dean wanted to help him, but John didn't want him to and raised the hand that was still holding a broken piece of the bottle. He hit Dean's chest and left a two inch long cut.

 

Castiel nods before he puts his hand on the back of Dean's neck and pulls him closer. They kiss and Cas lets his hands slide up and down Dean's sides, causing goosebumps to erupt all over his body. He groans when Cas' thumbs brush over his nipples, opening his eyes and seeing the grin on Cas' face. The blue-eyed boy runs his fingers through Dean's hair briefly, messing it up and slightly tugging at his strands, and then he leans forward again. Cas presses his lips to Dean's cheekbones and leaves a trail of kisses along his jawline down his neck to his collarbone. He nips tentatively at the skin there before he slides down further. Dean leans back, putting his arms behind him and his hands on the mattress, supporting his weight on them and spreading his legs. Cas takes advantage of that right away, and _fuck,_ he fits there just as perfectly as Dean fits between Castiel's legs.

 

Cas leaves open mouth kisses all over his ribs and his stomach, flickering his tongue down to his navel. At the moment, it doesn't cross Dean's mind to interrupt Castiel while he's mapping out his upper body. It's awesome and hot, and Dean already feels his dick harden. He remembers that Cas panicked the last time he raked his fingers through his hair in such a situation, so he asks first this time.

 

“Can I...?” he asks, reaching his hand out and carefully running his fingers along Cas' hairline. Castiel looks up, the blue of his eyes is somehow a little bit clearer, and he nods before he presses his lips to Dean's skin again. Dean moans lowly, threading his fingers through Cas hair again and again, a little more roughly with each time, but Castiel lets him. _Huh, getting to know each other is even better than he imagined it to be._

 

He can't help it, his hips jerk upwards when Cas flicks one of his nipples with his tongue. Dean throws his head back a little, biting his lip. Castiel moves on to the other nipple, taking it in his mouth and sucking at it.

 

“Oh god, Cas,” Dean says under his breath.

 

The blue-eyed boy lifts his head again and they lock eyes. Dean sits up straight again and puts both of his hands on Cas' face, cradling it. He kisses Cas deeply, letting out a sigh. Castiel puts his hands on the side of Dean's neck and on the back of his head, thumbing at his cheeks and pressing closer against him until Dean leans back. And he must say it's not bad – the way Cas is laying on top of him, he means of course. He clings to Cas back, letting his hands wander down while they keep kissing. Cas' tongue is in his mouth and without thinking about it, Dean grabs Castiel's ass, pulling him more down on him and their hips meet.

 

His brain catches up surprisingly quickly, and for a moment he could slap himself. What if this is too much for the blue-eyed boy? But before he is actually able to start worrying about that, Cas grinds down on him, groaning with that gravelly voice of his, and Dean realizes he's fully hard by now, and Cas is too.

 

He knows that Cas is out of his comfort zone right now, but it seems to do him good. They keep rutting against each other and Castiel's hands keep wandering all over Dean's torso. Dean feels the familiar burning in his lower body. He's close but he doesn't want to come, not yet. Again, his body acts thoughtlessly, and he flips them over. Now, Cas is laying beneath him and that doesn't feel so bad either. Fuck, isn't it almost unfair how gorgeous this boy is? But then again, how fucking lucky is Dean right now?

 

Castiel holds on to him tightly – they stopped moving – and catches his breath. Dean sits up and looks down at Cas, chewing on his lip. Cas returns his look a little questioningly, sitting up as well and scooting closer, so they're sitting opposite one another. Dean waits patiently for Cas to decide what to do next. The blue-eyed boy bites his lip, running his fingers through his really messed up hair and looking down on the patch of blanket between his legs. He swallows, gripping the hem of his sweater and slowly pulling it over his head, immediately throwing it to the side.

 

Dean gasps a little at the sight in front of him. Cas grimaces, taking a deep breath – he has closed his eyes, but _fear_ is still written very clearly across his face. And yes, at first Dean feels hollow as he takes everything in. After all, it's the first time he's seeing Castiel's scars, and he's never seen self-harm scars before.

 

The scars that stand out the most are the scars on Castiel's wrists from his failed suicide attempt. Two long, dark scars on each wrist, and a lot of smaller scars from further self-harming.

 

Dean's eyes dart over Castiel's torso and there are more scars on his stomach and his chest. He tilts his head. There aren't only scars from cuts, but also a few circular scars. He sucks in a breath and looks away, when he realizes that these are scars from cigarette burns. Dean can't help but wonder if Cas did that to himself, or if his rapists did that to him. All at once, there's a bad taste in his mouth and he swallows convulsively. Why is he feeling so sick? He has no right to feel this way. Cas is the one who's littered with all these scars, and who thinks that Dean will find them as disgusting as he himself does.

 

He looks back at Cas and is met with the dark ocean. Castiel opened his eyes, and he's biting his lip harder than ever, looking sadly back at Dean. “This was a terrible idea,” Cas says quietly. “You shouldn't see this. They're ugly. I'm...”

 

Dean doesn't let him finish the sentence. “Don't you dare,” he says sternly, scooting closer and putting his hands carefully on Castiel's sides. Cas returns his look wide-eyed. “Don't you dare say that you are ugly.”

 

“Dean, I know what I look like. And these scars are anything but attractive.”

 

“And I've told you that I don't mind your scars.”

 

Cas wants to say something again, but Dean puts a finger against his lips, shaking his head. “No. Please, shut up and let me admire you.”

 

He has overcome the initial shock quickly, and now he lets his eyes roam over Castiel's upper body, taking _everything_ in now. He got distracted by the scars briefly. But now he truly focuses on everything. And Cas allows him to do so.

 

Yes. The scars are sticking out and he can't ignore them, screaming about Cas' horrible past, but Dean actually doesn't mind them. And something else is fascinating him completely right now anyway – the rest of Castiel's tattoos that he hasn't seen so far. Sure, sometimes something black was visible on Cas' neck, if the collar of the sweater he's wearing allowed it. And Dean always tried not to pay it too much thought, since he didn't want to pressure Cas into showing him the rest of his tattoos.

 

But now, he's allowed to look at them. And at first, that's all he does.

 

Cas has black angel wings. They start on his back – what Dean can't see at the moment – and span over his shoulders down his arms and end above his elbows. A few individual feathers are scattered alongside his scars on his wrists and his lower arms.

 

 _Gorgeous –_ that's the only word in Dean's mind.

 

Have you ever been to Paris and stood below the _Eiffel Tower?_ Or in Egypt and stood in front of the _Great Pyramid of Giza?_ Or do you remember the first time you've ever seen the ocean?

 

Dean's never been to Paris. He's never been to Egypt either. And neither has he seen the _Eiffel Tower_ nor has he seen the _Great Pyramid of Egypt._ He's also never been by the ocean. But he does feel the wonder, the amazement, the excitement, the awe and also the calming as he's looking at Castiel now.

 

“Can I touch you?” he asks.

 

“You want to?” Cas asks surprised.

 

Dean nods, smiling. “Yeah, I want to.”

 

Cas flashes him a crooked smile. “Yes, you can.”

 

Dean scoots closer until he's sitting between Cas' legs, and puts his own legs over Cas' thighs, so that he's almost sitting on Castiel's lap. Just a little bit hesitantly, the blue-eyed boy puts his hands on Dean's hips. Dean mirrors him, drawing small circles with his thumb over Cas' soft skin to calm him down for a minute or two. Then he withdraws one hand and traces a line from Castiel's neck over his collarbone and his ribs down to his stomach, watching how Cas' breath hitches in his throat. He licks his lips, doing that again, just on Cas' other side, and again Cas stares at him with wide eyes.

 

“You're gorgeous,” Dean says, putting his hand on the side of Castiel's neck now, letting his fingers graze over his collarbone for a moment before tracing another line down Castiel's right arm. “Your tattoos are gorgeous.”

 

Old doubts are reflected on the ocean's surface at Dean's words. Cas swallows, starting to chew on his bottom lip. Dean pulls it away from Cas' teeth with his thumb, pressing a kiss to Cas' lip. “You are gorgeous,” he repeats. “And these wings are perfect for you.”

 

Cas just looks at him, doubtingly and in disbelief but also relieved. “You're not going to leave me.”

 

“I'm not going to leave you,” Dean says softly. Slowly and carefully, he gets up, smiling when Cas creases his forehead in confusion, wanting to get up as well. “No, no,” Dean chuckles. “Stay like this.”

 

“And what are you going to do?” Cas wonders.

 

“This,” Dean says, sitting down behind the blue-eyed boy. He puts his hands on Cas' waist, having a proper look at the angel wings that start on his shoulder blades. It looks like the wings are _hugging_ Castiel – protecting him. With delicate touches, he lets his fingers dance over Castiel's back, who sighs quietly. Grinning, Dean presses a kiss between Cas' shoulder blades and more kisses up to his shoulder before he pulls him closer, so that Castiel's back is pressed to his chest. Dean puts his chin on Cas' shoulder and his cheek against Cas' cheek. “Is this okay?”

 

 

Cas nods, a smile touching the corners of his mouth, and he puts a hand on Dean's left leg. “It's okay,” he assures him.

 

Dean smiles as well, wrapping one arm around Cas' middle, thumb brushing over Castiel's hip again and again. He kisses the side of Cas' neck. “Want to make you feel good again, angel,” he murmurs, pulling Cas impossibly closer. “Can I make you feel good again?”

 

For a few seconds, the blue-eyed boy freezes in his arms, but then he's nodding and turning his head to be able to look Dean in the eye. “Just... can you tell me what we're doing?” he asks quietly. Dean returns his look with a smirk. “I thought about giving you a hand job,” he answers.

 

And then they're kissing. Dean thinks Castiel started the kiss, but he isn't sure and he also doesn't really care. They're kissing and that's all that matters. He keeps one arm wrapped around Cas' middle with his hand on his ribcage, and he puts his other hand on Cas' stomach, letting it slide down slowly. Without hesitation, he dibs his hand under the waistbands of Castiel's sweatpants and boxers, curling his fingers around Cas' dick. Bare skin on bare skin not only makes Cas groan, it also causes Dean's own dick to harden quickly again.

 

Cas' cock feels perfect in Dean's hand – warm and heavy. When he starts stroking it, Castiel buries his face in the crook of Dean's neck, but that doesn't muffle his moans and Dean is glad about that. The sounds this boy can make are downright compelling and addicting.

 

He notes happily that Cas is spreading his legs willingly, giving him more access, and he's also rolling his hips upwards into the circle of Dean's fingers, trying to muffle his loud groans by pressing his lips to Dean's skin and starting to suck on it. Dean doesn't mind that though, and he actually hopes it will leave a mark.

 

Slowly but surely, he picks up pace, running his hand up and down Cas' shaft faster and faster. Suddenly, there's a hand on his crotch, palming his throbbing dick through his sweatpants and boxers. “Uh-oh, Cas,” he groans, and fucking hell, he can feel how the other boy's lips form a smile against his skin.

 

Castiel lifts his head and they look at each other for a brief moment. In that moment Cas slides his hand into Dean's boxers, wrapping his fingers around his dick. And Dean's mind goes blank for a few seconds, because _holy shit._ The angle may not be ideal, but that Castiel is even doing this is by itself enough to make Dean come far sooner than he wants to. Though, he really couldn't have withheld himself from coming any longer.

 

Cas mirrors Dean's rhythm and pace, while plunging his tongue into Dean's mouth once again. It only takes a couple more strokes and then they're both already coming. Castiel works him through his orgasm maybe a little bit clumsily, but like already mentioned the angle is also a little bit awkward, and Dean can't really say either that he's completely focused on his own fingers that are still wrapped around Cas' shaft, moving up and down.

 

When they're both finished, they let go of each other. Dean stares at Cas, who stares back at him with big, bright and radiant _blue_ eyes.

 

“Oh fuck,” Cas mutters. _“That was incredible.”_

 

Dean lets out a chuckle, looking down. He bites his lip, though he can't help but to actually start giggling. His hand, Castiel's hand and their boxers and sweatpants are stained with cum. “We made a mess.”

 

“Yeah,” Cas says, giggling as well. “And I'm still okay.”

 

Dean returns his look with a big smile. All at once, he feels the urge to tell Cas something – to tell Cas _that he loves him._ The words are already on the tip of his tongue, but he doesn't let them slip out. No, he can't do this. It could ruin everything, it could scare Cas, hell it could scare _Dean._ He's not ready to say this out loud, and he's sure that Cas is not ready to hear it.

 

He clears his throat. “We should get cleaned up. Come on.”

 

They get up and Cas follows him to the bathroom, where they wash their hands. Dean quickly disappears into his bedroom to get clean underwear and fresh sweatpants out of his closet. He pondered if they will fit Cas for a long moment, also trying to sort his thoughts, and when he gets back to the bathroom, he knocks on the door. Cas opens it and Dean hands him the fresh boxers and sweatpants, waiting for Castiel to clean himself up and to get dressed in the hallway.

 

After a few minutes, Cas tells him he can come in again and Dean opens the door. Cas is standing with his back to the mirror, rubbing his bare arm with his hand. The blue-eyed boy looks slightly uncomfortable.

 

Dean remembers what Cas said earlier. _I haven't told you about my scars so far. I hate them. I hate the reasons why I have them. I'm even ashamed because of them. They're disgusting. I can't really look at myself in the mirror anymore._ And his heart feels away.

 

Cas looks up, their eyes meet, and there's a silent apology in those blue eyes. But Dean shakes his head. “Do you want a sweater?” he asks, smiling softly at his boyfriend, who cocks his head to the side, biting his lip. “No, it's fine,” he says quietly. Dean's smile widens. That means he gets to look at Cas' torso and his tattoos a little while longer.

 

Castiel waits for Dean to get cleaned up and to get dressed in the hallway as well, and then they go back into Dean's bedroom, hand in hand, and lay down on the bed again. They're both on their sides, facing each other, legs entangled, and Cas put a hand on Dean's cheek, caressing his face. Dean just looks at Cas, wanting nothing more than to tell this gorgeous boy that he loves him. But he can't. He just can't do this. They're not ready for it.

 

But maybe, there's something else he could say to Castiel. Maybe there are three other words he could tell Castiel as a substitute for _I love you_ for the time being. He bites his lip briefly, staring at Castiel mesmerized.

 

This boy is so fucking gorgeous. Dean simply can't emphasize this enough. No matter how often he says it, or just thinks of it, it's still not enough. Castiel is gorgeous. He's a masterpiece. The stars should better be fucking proud of their creation.

 

And just like that, there are three other words he's able to tell Cas. Three other words that fit this blue-eyed boy perfectly.

 

“What are you thinking about?” Cas asks, bringing his face closer to Dean's, brushing his lips over Dean's, but not actually kissing him.

 

Dean caresses Cas' arm with his fingertips. “You,” he answers simply.

 

“Anything specific?” Castiel wonders, chuckling softly.

 

“I'm just happy to be here with you, and that you're able to do this.”

 

“You're helping me to do so – a lot,” Cas says quietly.

 

“But still, it's not easy for you. I'm really proud of you, and also just happy. And I simply can't get over the fact how fucking gorgeous you are.”

 

Castiel huffs a laugh, casting down his eyes. “You're sweet, and to hear this is very lovely, but you're kinda sappy,” he tries to downplay the compliment.

 

“Maybe,” Dean says. “But it's still the truth. Look at me,” he demands gently.

 

Cas raises his eyes again, returning Dean's look a bit confused, but also curiously.

 

“You are art.”

 

It's amazing how easily these words roll off his tongue. It's as if he were always meant to say them to Castiel, and right now is the moment the universe waited for.

 

He watches Cas' face expectantly, the way he presses his lips together and the way his eyes start to shine. Dean wants these blue eyes to always look like this, as if they didn't even know that the words _pain, agony, storm,_ and _heartache_ exist.

 

“You know what?” Cas says, voice sounding a bit wrecked. “I'm happy, too.”

 

And Dean is convinced that this moment is one of these pivotal points in their lives that they are always going to remember. Sometimes people look back at such points in their life and regret the things they've done, or the words they've said. But he knows that he's going to look back at this moment and he's always going to be happy about it.

 

Yes. Dean is good at _hurting people._ He's good at punching and insulting other people. He's good at harming other people, he's good at making them feel bad about themselves. He's also really good at saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. He's really good at drowning in self-loathing and whiskey. He's good at breaking things and people. He's really good at ruining things. _He's good at being a bad person._ All of these things are still true.

 

But maybe he's finally realizing that these things aren't the _only_ things he's good at. He's good at complimenting Castiel, and it doesn't matter that complimenting this gorgeous boy is so fucking easy. He's good at making Cas feel better, and he does manage to say the right things to the blue-eyed boy. He's good at _being Castiel's boyfriend._ He's good at trying to make this relationship work. _He's good at being a good person for Cas._

 

Today is definitely a day life doesn't suck.

 


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this is a relatively short chapter (compared to some of the previous chapters), but I still hope that you'll like it :)  
> It's kind of a filler chapter to me, if I'm honest, but I also don't really want to call it a filler chapter, since there are things happening that are important to the story.  
> But yeah, I hope you will enjoy it nevertheless.  
> Also, thank you so much for all the support!! Thank you to everyone who reads this story, who gives kudos and who writes comments. It all means so much to me. I love you!  
> ~ KC

_You are art._

 

Cas sighs, dusting off another shelf. He puts the dust cloth on the shelf behind him, starting to put all the items that belong there back on the shelf he just wiped clean – pens, pencils, paint brushes, watercolors, chalks, notebooks, writing pads and scribbling pads (both lined and checkered), printing paper, ring binders, folders, files, envelops, letter paper, ink cartridges, triangle rulers, and virgin paper. He's at the writing materials section of Missouri's shop at the moment, and he spends an hour and a half reorganizing it. Every item is available in a variety of colors and also in various sizes, so it's perfect whether someone needs this kind of stuff for school or for their work.

 

Charlie and Kevin are suckers for all this stuff, and they can't stress enough that you can never have enough notebooks. Dorothy and Gabriel love to roll their eyes at them, whenever they mention that.

 

“How are you getting on, honey?” Missouri's voice reaches him before she does.

 

Castiel puts the last folder on the shelf and picks up the dust cloth. “I'm done.” He smiles at her, when she steps up to him. Missouri looks at his work, nodding and returning his smile. “It looks good. Now you can do the same with the tea section.” She pats him on the back and disappears into her office again to continue doing paperwork.

 

He huffs a laugh and walks over to the tea section. That shelf isn't as big as the one he just tidied up, but still. Why there are so many different sorts of tea is beyond him, though. Cas shrugs a little to himself, starting to address himself to the new task.

 

_You are art._

 

It's two days ago that Dean said that to him the first time, and since then Castiel doesn't get this sentence out of his head. It's hard for him to believe Dean actually thinks that, because Cas knows what his body looks like. There were always certain words and phrases in his mind, when he looked at himself in the mirror. But this – _you are art_ – had never come to his mind. Now, he still doesn't think that about himself. Dean is the one, who said this to him.

 

Cas has always thought of himself as something _ugly,_ as something _no one would ever desire._

 

When his mom was still alive, he wasn't thinking like that. He was a little child and he knew he was loved. Then his mom died. He didn't just lose her. He also lost a part of _himself_ that had died with her. Then he came out officially. That's the reason why he lost his father. Bartholomew had never been a particular _fatherly_ person, but getting rejected like this was still a difficult thing to deal with. Then he got raped. That is what broke him completely. He started to self-harm. He turned to alcohol, cigarettes, and drugs. He tried to kill himself. It caused so many wounds, on his body and on his soul. He's walking around with all these scars, and it's disgusting. They're ugly. He's ugly. _Ugly_ is just a word that he got used tying to himself. And of course that made him believe everyone else around him thought of him like that as well.

 

Or – not everyone. Lucifer had always loved him. His brother never left him, never started to hate him. Lucifer was always there for him, always tried to help him, always tried to protect him. Not once did he complain about Castiel's anxiety, his depression, his nightmares, or about any of his other problems.

 

His friends were always there for him as well. Charlie, Crowley, Kevin, Gabriel, Gadreel, Billy, Pamela, Missouri, Meg, Balthazar, Garth, Ash, and Benny. But he only met them, when he was already broken. Though, they always tried to fix him, although they don't even know why he is broken, or to what extent. They always tried to cheer him up and to make him feel better, or to simply distract him from his thoughts, when they noticed he was down. And they never complained about anything either.

 

But no one was ever able to rock the way he's thinking about himself. No one got him to think it over.

 

However, _Dean_ did. With one simple sentence.

 

It's not that all of Cas' problems vanished into thin air all of a sudden. His anxiety is still there, somewhere deep inside of him. His demons are still lurking in the depth of his mind. He still can't look at himself in the mirror. And he does still think that his scars are ugly.

 

But just because he isn't able to love himself doesn't mean no one is. Dean does see something in him that seems to be worth it to overlook all of his scars and also all of his problems. Hell, Dean is even ready to work on his problems, to try helping him to deal with everything.

 

Just maybe Castiel isn't the lost cause he always thought he was. Maybe that's what Dean managed to make him realize.

 

After all, Dean already _witnessed_ a lot of his problems, and Castiel also already told him a lot about his past and what's going on inside of his head. After all, Dean saw Cas' scars, and what did he say to him? _You are art._

 

It just has to mean something. And maybe it means that Cas is worth something. He'd like to believe that, at least.

 

Of course, it doesn't go unnoticed that he's often following various trains of thoughts, or that his mood changed in general. Castiel didn't even expect that nobody would notice it, especially Missouri who has a sixth sense when it comes to emotions and mood swings anyway. Since he has two shifts at her shop two days running, they spend a couple of hours together, and she has enough time to eye him. Though, she only says something to him about it on the second day shortly before closing time.

 

They're sitting behind the counter, and Missouri controls her cash assets, telling him her tax adviser is going to kill her, if she doesn't keep everything in order. Cas grins at her, knowing very well that she's the tidiest and most thorough person he has ever met.

 

“How are you?” she asks him, when she puts the money into a sac to bring it to the bank later.

 

“I'm okay,” Cas answers honestly. Maybe he's feeling a little bit adrift, but just because all these positive thoughts and feelings he has are still so unfamiliar.

 

“How is it going with Dean?” She turns her chair, so she's facing him properly, and he sees the eyebrow she has raised at him.

 

Cas lets out a small chuckle. “It's going... good. Really good,” he says.

 

“Does he still treat you well?”

 

“Yes. He's a very good and kind person,” Cas says confidently.

 

“I know. It's all tough on the outside and soft on the inside,” she tells him, smiling gently. “I'm happy for you. You two are a beautiful couple.”

 

Castiel blushes a little. “Thank you,” he says sheepishly, but he returns Missouri's smile without hesitation.

 

Dean really does treat him well. He's taking great pains to make their relationship work, to help Cas, to make him feel better – to make him feel good. That's how Dean puts it.

 

It's true. Dean is practically showering him with compliments, kisses, and affectionate touches. Cas would be blushing and feel even a little bit embarrassed and maybe awkward, if he didn't feel so incredibly grateful. He's simply lucky. He's simply super fucking lucky to have Dean. And hell, they kiss _a lot._

 

There are some pecks here and there, but mostly they kiss for a few moments, and when they're alone they kiss for quite a while. Cas is dead certain that he won't ever get tired of kissing the green-eyed boy. It's addicting, and he always wants more. Dean is very keen on it, too. They didn't make out again, but Castiel thinks what they do is very close to making out. But all in all, he is just feeling good. That's all he wants, and that's all Dean wants, so they seem to do a good job.

 

Especially Dean, who does basically everything so that Cas is always feeling at ease, and is always feeling comfortable with him. And the green-eyed boy repeats that special sentence a few times.

 

When he picks him up from Missouri's shop after his late shift. He thinks about how Missouri asked him if Dean is treating him well as Dean parks the Impala in front of Cas' house. This is a time when they kiss for a few moments, but still not as much as Castiel wants, since his brother is waiting for him inside. But Dean is looking at him with so much wonder swirling through his green eyes, as if he's seeing a sea full of stars. He gently puts a hand on Cas' cheek, thumb brushing over his cheekbone. Castiel leans closer, so their lips brush together.

 

“Haven't changed my mind,” Dean mutters. “You _are_ art.”

 

Cas starts to blush involuntarily. He rolls his eyes halfheartedly at Dean. “Thank you for driving me home.”

 

“Oh, it wasn't a big deal. It actually just was an excuse to spend more time alone with you,” the green-eyed boy says bluntly. “Besides, being alone with you, kissing you, and talking to you is simply awesome. And I do notice that you're okay and at ease, when we're together. I mean, that's all I want.” Dean shrugs a bit. “Remember? I just want to make you feel good.”

 

“You're quite good at that,” Cas states and squeezes Dean's hand, smiling softly.

 

And then Dean repeats _that_ sentence right the very next day. Castiel's heart is hammering in his chest as he suddenly realizes that the sentence consists of three words. He just kisses Dean in response to it, but he starts to think if _maybe_ these three words are a substitute for other three words the green-eyed boy isn't ready to say out loud yet. Cas doesn't want to get his hopes up too high, but he does think that Dean could be in love with him. What other reasons are there why he's doing all this for him, or why he's saying all this to him. Maybe Dean even considers that Castiel isn't ready to hear an _I love you_ from him yet.

 

In any case, Cas knows the latter is definitely true. He isn't ready to hear these three words yet. He does love Dean, but it's a big deal and it simply would be too much if they already talked about this. So, maybe it's good to say other three words first. Even though, _you are art_ doesn't fit his own idea of himself, it feels pretty fucking good to hear such a thing coming from Dean.

 

And no matter how you look at it, Castiel is proud of himself because he's still already able to allow so much to happen. He _wants_ to be able to do so, he _wants_ to do all this. Stepping out of his comfort zone is hard, but now he knows it's doable and he just really wants to do it. Dean is lightening it a lot, and Cas knows that he couldn't do it on his own. Besides, Dean was right – he _did_ take a liking to doing this sort of stuff with the green-eyed boy.

 

Since he's able to allow it and to allow himself to enjoy it, there is no reason why he shouldn't continue to make out with Dean. Also, Dean seems to enjoy it quite a lot as well. But they only have the time for it again on Thursday. Although the day doesn't exactly start off good.

 

They both have to work, but Castiel has a late shift at Missouri's shop once again and Dean only has to start at ten o'clock in the morning. So, they meet at Dean's house for breakfast after Dean brought Sam to school. They eat cheese sandwiches and the yogurt with small pieces of strawberries and bananas that Pamela has made for him, sitting at the kitchen table across from each other. Dean tells him all about the car he has to finish repairing today, and Cas watches his green eyes starting to sparkle and he can't stop smiling at Dean.

 

It happens when they put their used dishes into the sink. Dean is just telling him a joke, but suddenly there's the sound of a key crammed into the lock of the front door, and the green-eyed boy freezes, looking wide-eyed at Castiel.

 

“There's no way this is Sam, right?” Cas asks quietly, and Dean just shakes his head, making a few steps to the kitchen entrance and looking round the corner and down the hall. He beckons Cas over, who obeys instantly – he's already pretty tensed up as well.

 

The person on the other side of the door is still struggling to open the door, and they hear a rough voice cursing. Cas knows that this has to be John Winchester. Dean grabs his leather jacket, and Castiel's trenchcoat and scarf, and also the car keys before he grabs Cas' wrist and they hurry down the hallway and outside through the backdoor. Dean signals him to be quiet by raising a finger to his lips. Cas nods to show him that he understood. He follows Dean around the house and when they quickly walk over to the Impala, there's no trace of John. But neither Cas nor Dean pays it much thought. They get in the car as fast as possible and Dean sets off immediately.

 

“That was close,” Dean mutters after a few moments of quiet driving, huffing a breath.

 

“You don't want me to meet your dad, right?” Cas asks, slightly leaning against the passenger door so he's facing Dean.

 

The green-eyed boy presses his lips together. “Do you want _me_ to meet _your_ father?” he asks back.

 

“My dad would so freak out, if I wanted him to meet my boyfriend. Hell, it'd probably be already too much, if I simply told him about you,” Cas says, grimacing. He notices the small smile that graces Dean's lips at the words _my boyfriend._

 

“See? My dad would react the same. And he doesn't even know that I'm also into boys.”

 

“Into one boy,” Cas says, too seriously to mean it seriously, leaning forward and kissing Dean on the cheek.

 

The green-eyed boy lets out a chuckle. “That's right. I'm only into you,” he agrees, leaning to the side and pointing at his cheek. Cas gives him another kiss on the cheek, laughing quietly and scooting a little bit closer to his boyfriend – it also feels pretty good to simply call Dean _his boyfriend_ in his mind.

 

Dean puts one arm around his shoulders. “Shall I drive you home?”

 

Cas bites his lip. “We still have some time, don't we? I mean, until you have to work.”

 

“Yeah. What's on your mind?” Dean says, shooting him a look before focusing on the road again.

 

“I know a place. Turn left at the next crossroad,” Castiel decides after he looked around and realized where they are. He instructs Dean where to drive, and about 15 minutes later he shows Dean a small parking lot just outside of town, where a footpath into the forest starts.

 

Dean looks around curiously, turning off the engine. “What is this here?”

 

“It's just a place hardly anybody goes to. It's quiet and peaceful here. I thought we could have our peace here.” He shrugs a bit, stretching his arms.

 

Dean makes a humming sound, kissing him on the cheek. “Good idea.”

 

Cas chuckles softly, turning his head and slinging his arm around Dean's shoulder, threading his fingers through Dean's hair. He feels more confident, when he's with the green-eyed boy. Not that he's not confident in general. Castiel _is_ confident – or sometimes he's able to pretend he is, at least. But he's able to confront his father. He's able not to take any shit from others. He's confident around his friends, most of the time. He's confident around strangers. He's confident at school. He's confident when it comes to Alastair.

 

But when he's with Dean, he's confident in a different way. Dean helps him to chase his demons away, to feel comfortable in his skin, to be confident with who he is, to dispel the cloud of anxiety in his mind, to expel most of his bad thoughts most of the time. Though, neither is Dean able to protect him from all the evil in the world, nor is he the cure for depression and anxiety. But he's helping him a lot, he's doing him good, he's making him feel _happy._ Dean doesn't mind his past, his scars, his problems, or how massively fucked up Cas is. And the most important thing is that he's able to help Castiel to get over what happened to him.

 

Only a year ago, Cas wouldn't have been able to kiss Dean, let alone to make out with the green-eyed boy. He wouldn't have been able to touch Dean, or to let Dean touch him. He wouldn't have been able to let Dean in. But now, he's able to do all this.

 

Castiel smiles against Dean's lips before they start to kiss.

 

 

* * *

 

 

It's mid-November and every few days a lot of snow falls, covering everything in a white, cold and heavy blanket. Winter is a quiet season, but for Dean it will always be tied to the accident, the fire – the night his mother died. He remembers it all so clearly, even though he desperately wants to forget all the details. He hates this so fucking much. Everything just keeps reminding him of it.

 

He shakes his head, pulling into the parking lot of the High School. A few students walk by, chattering and nudging each other. Dean doesn't want to think about his mom's death. He takes a deep breath, running his fingers through his hair. Thankfully, he only has to wait a couple of minutes, and then Sammy leaves the school building and walks over to him.

 

“Hey,” Dean says when Sam lets himself fall on the passenger seat. “Everything okay?”

 

“Hm, well, kind of,” Sam answers vaguely.

 

Dean shoots him a questioning glance before he quickly concentrates on backing out of the parking space again. “What do you mean by that?” he asks.

 

“I've got an A on my latest English essay, so that's what was good about today,” Sam answers.

 

Dean grins proudly at him. “That's awesome. But what wasn't good about today?”

 

“It's not like something happened. It was more annoying and also embarrassing than anything else. Do you remember Becky Rosen?”

 

Dean's forehead creases in confusion. “Becky Rosen?” he wonders, trying to connect the name to a face.

 

“Yeah. She was the girl who showed me around on our first day,” Sam says.

 

“Oh,” Dean says, suddenly remembering her. “The girl who has a weird crush on you, right?”

 

“Right,” Sam says, huffing a breath. “She asked me if I wanted to come over to her house for dinner on Thanksgiving.”

 

Dean bites his lip. “What did you say?”

 

“I said no,” Sam says quietly. “But in a polite way. I've tried to explain to her _once again_ that I'm not interested in her.”

 

“And how did she react?”

 

“She started crying in the middle of a crowded hallway.” Sam lets out a hard sigh. “Everyone stared at us.”

 

“Well, I think she won't bother you again, at least.” He grins at his little brother, and Sam shoots him a dirty look. “Funny, Dean.”

 

“It is,” Dean says, stopping at a red light. Sam scoffs a little, but then he tells him about his English essay and about the upcoming tests next week. Dean does listen to him, but at the same time he's still kind of distracted by yesterday's events. He can't help glancing in the rear-view mirror and at the back seat, where Castiel and he made out yesterday. It just feels so fucking good to be able to see Cas enjoying himself. Besides, to be able to let his hands roam over Castiel's body is just _wow._ Cas is just _wow._ Making out with Cas on the back seat of the Impala is definitely just _wow._

 

He clears his throat, tearing his thoughts away from _this_ topic. He shouldn't think about it right now. Dean especially shouldn't think about Castiel's hands on his ass, or he's going to pop a boner right next to his little brother for sure. That'd be just _hella_ awkward.

 

Still, Sam shoots him a knowing look, and a grin quirks up the corners of his mouth. Dean ignores it intentionally. Nevertheless, when they arrive home, they're both in a good mood.

 

Though, that changes as soon as they enter the house.

 

At first, Dean can't even tell what's wrong. He just instantly knows that _something_ is wrong. And according to Sam's facial expression, his little brother can feel it too. Sam's brow is furrowed and he looks around, starting to bite his lip. He looks at Dean questioningly, as if he wanted to ask him what _exactly_ is wrong. But Dean doesn't really know. He looks around as well, walking down the hallway slowly. The living room and the kitchen are empty. He wonders if their dad is there, although the house is eerily quiet. Even if John was asleep, they'd still be able to hear his snoring.

 

He swallows, knocking on John's bedroom door – and getting no answer. Dean ignores Sam, who's shaking his head, and opens the door. John's bedroom is still a mess, but their father isn't there. Dean briefly gazes at the empty bottles, the cartons, the papers and the photographs, realizing that his dad crumbled a lot of sheets of paper up. Apparently, John stripped off everything that was hanging on the wall and the closet, though Dean doesn't understand why, but he honestly couldn't care less about this right now. They have another more urgent problem at the moment, and since their dad isn't home anyway – he rarely is lately –, there's no point in wondering about John's messed up behavior, at least not for the moment.

 

Dean turns around and notices that Sam isn't standing in the hallway anymore. For a brief second, he kind of wants to freak out but then he hears his little brother's voice, saying his name.

 

“Dean?” Somehow, Sam sounds unsure, causing Dean to wrinkle his brow.

 

“What's wrong?” he asks, stepping into the living room. At first, there's _nothing_ wrong. He doesn't see any difference, but it all just _feels_ so wrong. And then, Sam points at the remote control for the TV that's laying on the window sill – what's weird, because Dean could have sworn he put it on the coffee table as always. Sam is biting his lip, looking around, and Dean quickly starts to do the same.

 

Within a few minutes, they find more and more objects that aren't where they are supposed to be. Pictures on the walls are swapped, pillows are newly arranged, dishes are in different cupboards, and there are scratches on the kitchen table that can only come from a knife. But there's more to it than that. Dean can sense it, and he knows Sam can it too. The whole _atmosphere_ in the house is different. They just know that someone was here and invaded their home, though apparently nothing was stolen – not that they have something worth stealing anyway. But what's the point in breaking in then?

 

All of a sudden, there's a feeling of nausea in the pit of his stomach and he leaves the kitchen. Sam looks after him with a puzzled expression on his face. Dean hurries upstairs and opens the door to Sam's room. He has an idea, who could have done this, who would only want to confuse and scare them, or more _him._ Anger flares up somewhere behind his eyes, when he sees the mess in Sam's bedroom.

 

“What the...?” he hears his brother saying behind him. Sam looks around with wide eyes, seeing all of his school supplies scattered on the floor, and most of them are broken. Sheets of paper are lying around everywhere, crumbled up, and ripped out of Sam's notebooks.

 

“Fucking hell,” Dean says, shaking his head. He leaves Sam's room and goes into his own, expecting to see the same kind of mess in there, even though he doesn't have a lot of stuff in his room. But when he opens the door and looks around, it all looks as always. He creases his forehead in confusion, wondering why his room was spared from the infiltrator. Dean is so angry and distracted that he almost misses it – the sign that someone was in his room as well.

 

There's a note on his pillow, and for a moment he just stares at it, seeing the poor handwriting but not reading the words. His throat ripples as he swallows and grips the note, holding it tightly in his hand. Dean reads the few words that are scribbled on the white paper that probably got torn out of one of Sam's notebooks, and he scoffs in disbelief. He has to read the message a few times until the words and their meaning actually arrive in his brain, and it clicks.

 

_**Your bed is comfy. Has the little faggot already slept in it?** _

_**~ A.** _

 

Dean feels like he's about to puke. The scrawny handwriting is turning his stomach, and he licks his lip. He stares at his bed and then back at the note. His eyes skim the words a couple more times until they get stuck on one small letter, and he just knows who wrote this, who broke into their house.

 

_**~ A.** _

 

Alastair. Who else would do this? Who else is this fucked up? Who else has such a twisted mind? But fucking shit, _why?_ Why now? Dean hasn't seen Al for a while, and he knows Castiel hasn't seen him either, because otherwise he would have told Dean. What's the reason for this now? Hell, how does Alastair even know where they live? Did he follow Dean, and he didn't notice it? Or worse – he followed Sam. Dean doesn't pick Sam up from school every day. It simply doesn't work with his work schedule. _Fuck._

 

How fucking _sick_ is Al?

 

“Are you okay?” Sam asks quietly, and Dean jerks his head around, looking at his brother. He holds the note so tightly in his hand that he's almost tearing it apart. He swallows, loosening his grip and regretting it immediately, because Sam takes it out of his hand and reads it quickly. Dean doesn't even have the chance to react. He clenches his jaw and Sam returns his look with big eyes full of worry.

 

“Who wrote that? Who did all this?”

 

Dean hesitates, but he takes the note back out of Sam's hand and looks at the words again. He's so unbelievably angry, and he can't remember the last time he was _this_ angry. He isn't able to think straight right now. “It's someone who went to school with me,” he answers quietly and evasively.

 

“Are you sure?” Sam asks, and Dean simply nods.

 

“We have to call the police,” Sam says sternly.

 

Dean stares at him for a moment before starting to shake his head. “No,” he says.

 

“But someone broke into our house, and you _know_ who did it,” Sam says in disbelief.

 

“And? He's broken into our house, yes. But that's all. Some stuff is broken, but most of our belongings are intact. They will say that they can't do something about it. This won't even seem like a threat to them. Maybe like a hate crime, but honestly this is a small town – as if they are going to really care about it. Besides, we can't prove anything. Anyone could have done this.” He doesn't want to tell Sam about Alastair, and that the guy is basically stalking him – he doesn't know what else to call it. But still, he thinks the police won't do much, and even if they believed him that it was Al, what would they do? Alastair is supposed to go to school, but he just disappeared. This is a small town, and nothing particularly _bad_ has happened, so why would the police waste resources to search for Al?

 

It's just that Dean isn't able to look at his bed without feeling the need to gag. _Alastair has lain in his bed._ That's one of the most disgusting things Dean has ever thought, which is really saying something. He grimaces, clenching and unclenching his fists a couple of times before he grabs his bedding and strips it. Sam watches him silently, following him to the washing machine and not saying something about Dean fretfully stuffing the bedclothes in it.

 

“And what are we going to do now?” Sam asks cautiously.

 

Dean returns his look, biting his lip. Well, what could they do, besides calling the police? Should they call an adult? It doesn't even occur to him in that moment that technically _he is an adult._ He just keeps pondering over what to do now. The only thing he knows right now is that he wants to see Castiel. He _needs_ to see Castiel.

 

So he walks back into his room, ignoring the note that he put on his nightstand for now, and dials Cas' phone number. Thankfully, the blue-eyed boy answers the call instantly.

 

“Hey.”

 

Dean swallows. “Hey, Cas.”

 

“Is something wrong? You sound... different, somehow. I'd say angry,” Cas says slowly.

 

“Can you come over?” Dean asks, rubbing his neck. “Something happened.”

 

“Of course. But what's going on?”

 

Dean takes a deep breath. “Alastair,” he says. “He broke into our house.”

 

“ _What?”_

 

“I know. It's _crazy,_ but I'm dead certain that it was him,” Dean replies.

 

There's silence for a few moments, and Sam comes into his room, looking at him a little questioningly. Then, Cas says something again and the blue-eyed boy sounds frustrated and weirdly resigned at the same time.

  
“So he's finally crossed the line.”

 

Twenty minutes later, Castiel is there and Dean explains what happened – that they came home and noticed things aren't the way they are supposed to be. Cas listens carefully to him, and he seems to get more and more angry. Dean is angry as well, but he doesn't want his boyfriend to be upset.

 

“You said you are dead certain that it was Alastair,” Cas says, a little wonderingly. “How?”

 

Dean looks at the floor, grimacing a bit. He doesn't want Cas to see the note, to read what Al has written – what he has written about him.

 

“What?” Cas asks, furrowing his brow.

 

“He left a note,” Dean says through gritted teeth. He shrugs halfheartedly. “He's a creepy freak.”

 

“Show me,” Cas says, and Dean opens his mouth, though he doesn't know what to say. “I don't think that's a good idea,” is what he settles for.

 

Cas looks at him quizzically. “Why?”

 

“It's just... he's written something about... you,” Dean admits reluctantly after they just stared at each other for about 30 seconds.

 

“And I'm assuming not something nice,” Cas says, huffing a breath. “But it doesn't matter. I want to read it.”

 

Dean still hesitates, biting his lip. Cas takes his hand, chuckling a bit. “It's sweet that you want... to protect me, but it's okay. Show me the note.”

 

He squeezes Cas' hand and sighs, realizing that it's Castiel's decision and not his. He nods, and they go upstairs and into Dean's room. The note is still laying on the nightstand. Dean sits down on the edge of the bed and watches as Cas takes the note and reads the few words on it.

 

The blue-eyed boy flinches slightly, and Dean doesn't have to guess the reason why – at what word it happens. Cas swallows and looks up, and they lock eyes. Dean reaches out, taking Cas' hand and pulling him closer. “Alastair is a freak, and an asshole,” he says, and Cas sits down next to him.

 

“That's true. But he's overstepped so many limits by now. I mean, watching us is one thing, but this...” He shakes his head.

 

“I know,” Dean says, intertwining their fingers. “I told Sam I don't want to call the police. We don't have any proof that it was indeed Alastair, and I mean it's weird and creepy to think that he was here, but except for a few of Sammy's school supplies he didn't break anything.”

 

Cas nods slowly. “I don't know what to do either. If something like this happens again, maybe then you should call the police. But I doubt that they are able to do a lot now. Maybe they even say that it could have been a bunch of teenagers – you know, stuff like this happens every now and then.”

 

“I'm sorry about the note,” Dean says quietly.

 

“You don't have to be sorry, Dean,” Castiel says, running his fingers through Dean's hair before he puts his hand on Dean's leg. “You didn't write that.”

 

“But I saw your reaction, when you read it.”

 

Cas shrugs. “It triggered me, yeah. I mean, the word _faggot_ did.” He bites his lip, looking down on his hand that's still on Dean's thigh and moving his thumb over Dean's jeans, distracted by something in his head. “Um,... my... my rapists had only called me _that.”_

 

Dean looks at Cas sadly, trying to think of comforting words he could tell Castiel. But what is he even supposed to say to something like this? He's already feeling bad, but suddenly he feels too cold and too hot at the same time, and his guilty conscience surfaces as he's remembering something.

 

“ _Don't worry. I don't want to have_ anything _to do with you and your friends anymore.“ Dean gritted his teeth. “I'm just saying, don't do something like today ever again.“_

 

“ _I just entered a bar. I didn't know you were here. I'm friends with the barkeeper,” Castiel told him, but why the fuck was it so clear that he was lying to him? “But don't worry, it won't happen again.“_

 

“ _Sure.“ Dean huffed a small breath, not hiding that he didn't believe the other boy._

 

“ _What? Do you honestly think I came here, because of you?“ Cas stared at him in disbelief. “Why would I do that? Or don't you believe me that it won't happen again? Why would I want to talk to you again? You're an_ asshole.“

 

“ _You're a...“ Dean inhaled deeply. The beginning of his sentence came over his lips a little too quickly, and Castiel squinted at him. Dean knew what he's wanted to say, though he didn't know if he should actually say it out loud. He didn't even actually want to say_ this, _he just reacted to Castiel saying he's an asshole._

 

“ _I'm a what?“ the blue-eyed boy asked._

 

_Dean shook his head, opening and closing his mouth, without saying something._

 

“ _I'm a_ what?“ _Castiel emphasized._

 

_And Dean looked at him, anger and sadness battling inside of him – a fight Cas didn't seem to understand according to the questioning look in his eyes. Hell, Dean himself didn't understand it as well. All he knew was that his anger won._

 

“ _A faggot.“_

 

Oh god. No. _He_ had called Castiel a faggot. Shortly after they had moved here. When they met at the bar, the day of Dean's birthday after John had thrown him out of the house.

 

Dean gets up, feeling sick to his stomach. He runs his fingers through his hair. _Fuck._ Now, he feels even more miserable than he already did – who would have thought that that's even possible. He hasn't been filled this much with self-hatred for quite a while, and now he feels like he can't breathe.

 

He had already felt so fucking stupid right after it happened, but now even more so. Castiel should have beaten him to a pulp, and not just hit him in his face once. His nose didn't even break. Sure, it hurt, but Dean deserved to feel so much more pain.

 

“Dean, stop,” Cas says all of a sudden, and he turns back around to the blue-eyed boy. “Don't do that. I know what you're thinking about, and you don't have to apologize for it again. Remember? You already did apologize for calling me a faggot.”

 

“Yeah, but I didn't know...,” Dean starts, but Cas gets up, standing in front of him and putting his hands on either side of his face.

 

“Please, don't get worked up over this. It was a lifetime ago, or at least it feels like it. We were different people back then, practically still strangers. We didn't know one thing about each other. Well, I already knew that you were beautiful, but that's an obvious fact, so I don't think it really counts.” He flashes Dean a smile.

 

But Dean doesn't smile. He just can't, because he still feels so terrible. Though, Castiel seems to be able to read his mind.

 

“It's okay,” he says. “I knew right the moment after you said it that you regretted it. It was so painfully obvious. And yes, it did trigger me, but I was never mad at you. I thought that I should be mad at you, but I just wasn't able to, because I saw your regret. So, it's okay. It's a thing in the past, and it doesn't matter anymore.”

 

“It does matter. In one way or another, I don't know,” Dean says, and he feels the need to explain himself. He only realizes now that he never did. “It was a rough day for me. I was already in a bad mood, and back then I didn't want to like you. And you were just there and kept talking, and I couldn't stop thinking that you're gorgeous. I was so angry, at me, at you in a way, at everything. My dad kicked me out of the house that night.”

 

Understanding flashes through Castiel's eyes. “Oh,” he says. “Sam has told me about that. He said that your dad has kicked you out once.”

 

He nods, biting the inside of his cheek. “It was just a terrible day. It was my birthday and he didn't care about it at all. Sam wanted me to have a good day, but dad ruined it and he kicked me out.”

 

“Yeah, I think Sam mentioned that it's been on your birthday,” Cas says quietly. “I don't really remember the exact day. What date was it?”

 

“January 24 th ,” Dean answers, cocking his head to the side. “Why you're asking?”

 

Cas smiles a little bit sadly at him. “I just didn't know when you have a birthday.” He presses a little bit closer to Dean, looking him directly in the eye. “But what happened on that day isn't relevant anymore. It's really okay.”

 

Dean lets out a hard sigh, but he knows there's no point in arguing with Cas about this right now. So, he just leans forward and kisses Cas. But it's not okay, not by him. He's absolutely furious – at Alastair, but also at himself. And he can't just stop feeling like this, though he knows he has to. So, he swallows his anger for now before he starts to drown in self-loathing once again. Instead, he starts to concentrate on their current problem. The issue with Alastair takes top priority, and they don't know what they should do about it.

 

But he does know that kissing Castiel is calming him down a little bit. It's still one of his favorite things to do. And Cas is kissing him back, softly tugging at Dean's brown strands. God, he doesn't want to stop and have to face reality again – a reality with Alastair in it. So, he just keeps kissing the blue-eyed boy and forgetting about everything else a bit, until there's a knock on the door frame.

 

“I finished cleaning up the mess in my room,” Sam says, smirking at them, even though there are still worries in his eyes.

 

Cas grins a little sheepishly, clearing his throat. “Hey, Sam.”

 

“Hey, Cas,” Sam says, returning the grin.

 

Dean huffs a breath, shaking his head. “Good for you,” he says.

 

“What now?” Sam asks, and his grin fades. He starts to bite his bottom lip.

 

“I think we need to get out of here,” Cas says, before Dean has the chance to think of something to say. “At least, for a few hours. And I know the perfect place to take your mind off this.”

 

Dean raises an eyebrow at him. “Pamela's diner?”

 

“Pamela's diner,” Cas says, taking Dean's hand.

 

“Sounds really perfect,” Sam agrees.

 

They leave the house and drive to Pamela's diner, who's delighted with seeing them, and especially seeing Dean and Cas together as an actual couple. Their visit at the diner does distract all of them, but there's still a hollow feeling inside of Dean and it doesn't go away, no matter how hard he tries to just focus on Castiel's smile or the blue of his eyes.

 

He just can't stop thinking about that they had finally started to feel at home in their house to a certain degree, but now...

 


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry that I need more time again to write a chapter. I have a lot of trouble writing lately. And I also have the feeling that my writing is changing for the worse. I want you to be honest with me, and tell me if you have the same feeling... 
> 
> ~ KC

Dean is angry. He is super fucking angry. He's downright furious, and he can feel it in every fiber of his being. All of his cells are ignited with fury, and it's as if millions of lightnings are flashing right through him. And it never stops. Dean's anger doesn't fade in any way. It's always there, and that's making him even more mad. He's afraid of his anger taking control again, and making him do something that he will regret like it has happened before.

 

It's just...  _ Alastair. _ He's ruining everything. There's rarely a moment, when Dean doesn't think about this creep. He always wonders what Al is going to do next. Because seriously, what  _ is _ his next step? 

 

Dean doesn't feel at ease in his room anymore, hell in the entire house. They don't know for sure what exactly Alastair has touched, what exactly he has done. He doesn't even want to think about all these terrible and nauseating possibilities. Dean can't even sleep in his bed anymore. He sleeps in Sam's room, because on one hand he's constantly worried about his little brother, and on the other hand he can't dismiss the thoughts of Alastair lying in his bed and doing god knows what. His skin starts to crawl at just thinking about it. So, he sleeps in his brother's room, because otherwise he wouldn't be able to sleep at all. 

 

If anything, Dean's anger only grows with every passing minute, and he can't do anything about it. Just when he's with Castiel or with Sam, he is able to calm down a little bit. Dean is simply incredibly angry and upset and also worried. He doesn't want to leave Sam alone in the house. What if Alastair came back and Sam would be alone at home of all things at that moment? 

 

The constant threat that's emanating from Alastair's very existence is haunting him every minute of every day. His guilty conscience, because he has called Cas a faggot, is also eating away at him and doesn't make the whole situation any easier. Although it's months ago, and although Cas insists every time Dean brings it up that it's okay and that it doesn't matter anymore. Dean wonders why this is not enough for his mind to let go of this one thing at least. Cas is saying that he's not mad at him, so why the fuck is Dean still mad at himself? He has enough problems – he doesn't want to feel like he doesn't deserve Cas, or like Cas deserves someone better, once again on top of it all. That doesn't help anybody. He needs to stay focused. He needs to solve this problem called  _ Alastair. _

 

But maybe he doesn't need to solve it on his own. 

 

A few days have passed since Alastair broke into their house, and nothing else has happened so far. When the bell rings, Dean actually cringes, because he's so on edge the whole time. He shakes his head, annoyed by himself, and goes to answer the door. 

 

Dorothy is standing on their front porch with a big smile on her face. “Hi, Dean.”

 

“Hey,” Dean says, surprised to see her. “What's up?”

 

“I'm here to take you to Pamela's diner.” 

 

Dean furrows his brow. “What? Why?”

 

“So, first of all – you haven't seen my new baby yet.” She points behind her at the motorcycle that's parked by the side of the road. “And second, we need to have a discussion of the situation. Sam and Cas told us about Alastair, and we get that you don't want everyone to worry, but we do have to talk about this.” She said all of this very fast and without taking a breath, causing Dean to be at a loss for words.

 

“Excuse me?” he says, a bit puzzled.

 

“You heard me. So, come on.” Dorothy turns around and starts walking towards her motorcycle. 

 

“What? Wait!” Dean says, hurrying to grab his jacket and wallet and to follow her. 

 

Dorothy hands him a motorcycle helmet. “Put this on. We don't drive for long. Hey, that kinda rhymed.” She smiles to herself.

 

“Have you ridden this with a co-driver before?” he asks, eyeing the machine.

 

Dorothy rolls her eyes at him. “Relax. I got my driver's license last year and my dad practiced with me almost every day. And he says I'm a very good driver.”

 

“Okay,” Dean says, shrugging his shoulders and putting on the helmet after deciding to trust her.

 

It was the right decision. The ride is smooth and they are at the diner in no time. Dorothy is an excellent driver and there wasn't one moment, when Dean didn't feel safe. Besides, he's already in love with the motorcycle. 

 

“You should get a driver's license, too. I'd lend you my baby then from time to time.”

 

Dean looks at Dorothy, returning her smile. “That'd be awesome.” He already starts to feel slightly better.

 

They enter the diner, where Charlie and Castiel are already sitting at one of the bigger tables. Both get up to greet them. Charlie has to stand on her tiptoes to give him a proper hug, and she squeezes him as tight as possible before kissing Dorothy on the cheek. Dean smiles at them, slinging one arm around Cas' waist and pulling him closer. 

 

“Hey,” Cas says quietly, running a hand through Dean's hair that's all messed up from wearing the helmet. 

 

“Hi,” Dean says, kissing Castiel once before Pamela comes over to them. They just ordered something to drink, when the rest of them arrives. Benny is giving Meg a piggyback ride and behind them are Gabriel and Sam. 

 

“I swear Gabriel is doting on your little brother, Dean,” Charlie says, nudging him with her elbow. “They're both nerds, and he is able to practice being a teacher with Sam.”

 

Dean huffs a laugh. “As long as Sam keeps acing in all his classes, it's fine by me.”

 

Cas chuckles at his words, shaking his head. “As if Sam will ever stop acing in all his classes.”

 

They all sit down at the table and Pamela brings them apple pie. 

 

“So,” Meg starts, raising her eyebrows. “Where do we start?”

 

“What do you guys already know?” Dean asks back.

 

“Actually,” Cas says, “I think we already told them everything. Right?” He looks at Sam.

 

“Yeah, I think so, too.”

 

“Okay. And what are we doing here, then?” Dean wonders.

 

“What I told you – having a discussion of the situation,” Dorothy answers, pointing at him with her fork.

 

“What's the point of that?”

 

“Well, the point is that nothing worse happens to you both,” Gabriel says with a mouth full of pie, but he's still accomplishing to look at him sternly. 

 

Dean shoots Sam a look, who shrugs his shoulders. He sighs. “You're probably right.”

 

“What do you mean  _ probably?” _ Gabe asks, but Benny puts a hand on his shoulder to interrupt him. “Are you guys sure that you don't want to go to the police for now?”

 

Dean presses his lips together. “I don't know. It's just... what are they even supposed to do?”

 

“They could hunt for him,” Dorothy says. “I mean, it's Alastair. He has probably already a criminal record anyway.”

 

“What do you mean  _ probably?” _ Gabriel repeats, and everyone has to chuckle.

 

“Okay, if you really don't want to get the police involved for now, we should still bring in an adult,” Benny says.

 

“Well,  _ technically _ we are all adults – besides Sam,” Gabriel interjects, scratching his chin. 

 

“We need an adult, who has more experience being an adult,” Cas says after a few moments of silence. Everyone agrees with him, and Sam asks the big question. “And with whom should we talk about this?”

 

Dean looks at Cas, who's sitting right next to him, and they lock eyes. “Missouri?” Dean asks the question to everybody around. No one has to think about it for long. Missouri is the logical choice for this. 

 

“Also, we all agreed that you shouldn't spend a lot of time at your house, and especially not alone,” Charlie adds. “Just in case, Alastair comes back.”

 

Dean nods slowly. “But where else do we have that we could go?  _ Ow.” _

 

Castiel flicked his ear. “Our house. I'll talk to Lucifer. We have a guestroom.”

 

“I'm pretty sure Missouri will house you as well. And I can talk to my mom. We don't have a guestroom, but a very comfortable couch.” Charlie flashes them a smile.

 

“I guess I'm able to continue spending time at Kevin's house,” Sam says.

 

“And mine. I have a few little brothers. My parents won't even notice that there's another kid,” Gabriel says, grinning at them.

 

Sam is grinning as well now, and Dean also starts to smile. He has the feeling it's easier to breathe again. They all helped lifting a burden from his shoulders. Yeah, friends are definitely an  _ awesome _ thing. He can't believe he's missed out on this for so long. 

 

“Well, now that that's clarified, you should go and talk to Missouri as soon as possible,” Dorothy says. “Preferably, right now.”

 

“Yeah, let's go,” Gabriel says and gets up already. 

 

They farewell Pamela and split up in front of the diner. Dorothy drives Charlie home, because the redhead has to learn for a test, and Benny has to work. So Dean, Sam, Gabriel, Castiel and Meg squash into Gabriel's small car and drive to Missouri's shop. Sam is riding shotgun, what Dean doesn't understand because Cas, Meg and he barely fit in the back of the car. It would have been easier if Sam and Meg were sitting on the backseat, Dean thinks,  _ but then again _ – Castiel is pressed right up against him and is holding his hand, so it could be worse, right?

 

Though, he's still thankful that they only drive for a few minutes. 

 

Missouri is sitting behind the counter, when they made their way to the back of the shop. She raises an eyebrow at them, and Dean figures it's kind of suspicious to say the least, the way they're all standing in front of her. 

 

“Yo, what's up?” Gabriel breaks the silence.

 

Meg rolls her eyes at him, but Sam chuckles quietly. Missouri looks at Gabe for a second, but then decides not to say something to him. She darts a glance at the others and her eyes rest on Dean, causing her brow to furrow. Dean looks back at her questioningly.

 

“You,” she says, nodding. “You look miserable, so I guess that's the reason why you're here.”

 

“Um...,” Dean stammers, not knowing where to start. 

 

“Exactly,” Gabriel says, nodding as well. “Sorry,” he adds, looking at Dean. “But you do look miserable.”

 

“That's because he doesn't sleep,” Sam says. 

 

“I do sleep,” Dean protests weakly.

 

“What's the problem, hun?” Missouri asks gently. 

 

Dean looks at Castiel and sighs, running his fingers through his hair. They all tell Missouri about Alastair, talking a little across each other, but Missouri is able to follow. 

 

“I know Alastair,” Missouri says, when they think they said all the important things. The name casts a shadow across her face, and she's wrinkling her brow. “I've never met him, but I did hear some awful things about him.” She looks at Castiel a bit thoughtfully. “Do you have any idea why he does all this?”

 

Cas bites his lip. “Well...”

 

“Well, Cas messed with Alastair and kept him in his place, when we still were in high school. That's not a secret,” Meg says, shrugging her shoulders. “But that doesn't explain why he's coming after Dean now.”

 

“I've kinda messed with Alastair as well. I mean, not as long as Cas, since we've only moved here this year, but still...” Dean shrugs once.

 

“Alastair is a freak. Remember? I've told you that on your first day at school,” Gabe says.

 

“The question now is what do you want to do?” Missouri asks Dean, who's leaning against the counter. 

 

He looks at Sam, who's sitting on the chair beside Missouri and his little brother raises one eyebrow at him. “I don't know.”

 

“Is it enough to go to the police? I mean, with Alastair's past history?” Sam asks Missouri.

 

“It can't hurt to tell the police about it, I think,” Missouri says.

 

“But we have no proof,” Dean says quietly. “There's not much they could do.”

 

“I'm not telling you to go to the police, but I'd recommend you to do so. Though, it is your choice, Dean. How's your father?” Missouri says, changing the topic all of a sudden. 

 

Dean looks at her quizzically for a moment, confused about the question. “As always, I'd guess. He isn't home most of the time.” 

 

“Does he know about Alastair?”

 

He and Sam shake their heads in unison at that question. Missouri presses her lips together, but she just nods and doesn't pry any further. Dean thinks there's no point in telling their dad about it. John would probably not care about it, or tell them to get over it, or something like that. Or maybe he even would flip out, and that is the last thing they need right now. No, it's better not to trouble John with it. They have to cope with this problem without their father, just like they do with every problem. 

 

“Do we go home today?” Sam asks him, and his eyes are already saying that he doesn't want to. Dean can't blame him for it. He doesn't want to go home today as well. 

 

“No, you won't,” Gabriel says, fiddling with a small figure that he took from one of the shelves next to him. 

 

“If you break it, you have to pay for it,” Missouri warns him, and Gabe briefly looks at the figure before he hastily puts it back on the shelf.

 

“Yes, Sam can stay at Gabe's place and Dean at Castiel's, right?” Meg asks, looking from one to the other. 

 

Gabriel nods. “Sure. That's no problem.”

 

“I'll have to ask my brother, but I don't know why he would say no,” Cas says.

 

Sam smiles at them and he's visibly more relaxed right away. Staying at someone else's place means that there will be no fights with John and no eerie atmosphere because of a former intruder. It means that they will be able to sleep peacefully and have a square meal. Dean notices that he's starting to relax as well.

 

Before they leave, Missouri reminds them of the Thanksgiving dinner at her house on the 28 th , promising that there will be good (and enough) food and saying they should be prompt. Dean already forgot about it, but now he's looking forward to the dinner again. The last few years, Thanksgiving dinners consisted of a drunk John and cheap junk food, so it's going to be a welcome change. 

 

They squash into Gabriel's tiny car again and first, Gabe drives Meg home, since she has to get ready for work. Afterwards, they drive to Dean and Sam's house, so they can get some stuff for the overnight stay. The drive to their home is more comfortable, since there's more space in the back of the car without Meg. She's a tiny person, but she occupied surprisingly much space. Still, Dean lets Sam keep riding shotgun, because sitting together with Castiel in the back of the car feels pretty good, and they're able to hold hands this way.

 

He and his little brother pack their backpacks quickly, both glad that John isn't home – this way, they don't have to explain anything to him. Dean does wonder where their dad is spending most of his time, but he knows better than to ask John such a question. Though, John can't possibly be at a bar or a liquor store all the time – he doesn't have any money. But they really do have enough problems, and above all Dean just wants to protect Sammy. That's simply taking top priority, always has and always will. Dean couldn't take the responsibility for something to ever happen to his little brother.

 

Sam farewells Dean with a hug and waves Cas goodbye before he gets in Gabe's car again. Dean watches them setting off, and puts his backpack on the backseat of the Impala. Cas is already sitting on the passenger seat, smiling at him when Dean starts the engine.

 

“Are you sure that Lucifer will let me stay?” he asks, half-kidding, half-serious. 

 

Cas chuckles softly. “Yes, I'm sure.”

 

Indeed, Dean is allowed to stay, and he lets out an relieved sigh.

 

“But he'll sleep in the guest room,” Lucifer says seriously before disappearing into the kitchen to finish cooking dinner, pointing a finger at them. Cas winks at Dean, smirking, and takes his hand. Dean follows him upstairs, rolling his eyes. He brings his backpack to the guest room, letting it fall on the floor next to the bed. 

 

“Is that okay for you?” Castiel asks, leaning against him and looking around.

 

“Of course. I mean,” he shrugs his shoulders, “I'd rather sleep in the same bed as you, but I really don't want to start an argument with your brother.” 

 

“Wise choice,” Cas says.

 

They spend some time in Castiel's room, listening to music and forgetting about Alastair for a while. At some point, Dean just kisses Cas, because that feels even a little bit better than hearing that rough voice of his and it makes it even easier to banish Al from his thoughts. He could have continued to kiss the blue-eyed boy for quite a while, though Lucifer calls them downstairs for dinner. Cas kisses him one last time, smiling against his lips, and gets up, holding his hand out for Dean to take. Dean smiles back at Cas, taking his hand and thinking that he has his amazing boyfriend at least. No matter what shit happens – or what is going to happen yet – he has Castiel by his side. That's something. That's something to be happy and grateful about. That's something to smile about. That's something to look forward to, when he wakes up in the morning.

 

Later, he talks with Sam over the phone, who's feeling at ease with Gabriel and his big family. Dean guesses that the hustle and bustle is distracting Sammy from all of their problems, and he is alright with that. After all, he wants his little brother to be happy and to feel comfortable. If Alastair ever dared to lay a hand on Sam, he'd get the shock of his life. Sam means everything to Dean – his little brother is the only one left of his family. Their mom is dead and John doesn't really care about them. But they always had each other, they were always there for each other. In a way, Dean and Sam always depended on one another. They didn't have Bobby for a long time, though now Dean considers him a part of their family again as well. Besides, they have a lot of friends now, and they can really rely on them. Dean hasn't felt this thankful about something for a long time. 

 

They decide it's best when Sam stays at Gabriel's place a few days more, and Dean promises to get some more of Sam's stuff and drop it off for him. 

  
“Tomorrow after work, okay?” Dean says.

 

“Okay. Be careful. See you tomorrow,” Sam says.

 

“See you,” Dean replies, ending the phone call. 

 

He's going to stay a couple more days at the Novak's house, and he can tell that Cas is happy about it. Though, Lucifer is still watching them – or him –  _ unobtrusively _ , but Dean knows that it's just to make sure Cas is alright. Since that's also important to him, he doesn't mind it. Hell, if he were Lucifer, he probably wouldn't trust himself either. That's the reason why Dean keeps wondering why Lucifer seems to accept him, although the important thing is that he  _ does _ accept him. 

 

As much bad stuff is happening in his life right now, Thanksgiving is next week and Dean just has to look around to know what he's thankful for.

 

The next day, work is passing by uneventfully, and after it Dean drives home. He goes straight to Sam's room and fetches a bag from the top of the closet. Sam needs some of his school supplies, a few books and fresh clothes. Dean is thinking about doing something kinda  _ special _ next week. It's Thanksgiving break and they can spend more time together. Maybe they will go to the movies, or even visit that railroad museum a few towns over that Sam is talking about for weeks now. He's sure that will make his little brother happy. And distraction is good for the both of them. Dean would literally put up with anything, if it just meant that he didn't have to think about Alastair.

 

He goes into his own room briefly, since he needs some more fresh clothes as well, although it's tempting to have to ask Cas if he could borrow something from him. Dean starts to grin at that thought and  _ forgets _ to pack pajama pants. He's in a better mood again, though he doesn't want to spend abundant time in the house.

 

Right in the moment, when Dean thinks that he doesn't want to run across Alastair, he hears how a door gets opened and closed downstairs. Dean freezes, his hand is gripping the straps of the bag tightly. He swallows, emerging from his room slowly and walking towards the stairs.  _ How likely is it that it's Alastair? _ he wonders, going downstairs as quietly as possible. Dean cringes, when the stair under his foot creaks. He doesn't know what's going to happen, if this is actually Al in their house – what  _ he _ is going to do. On the one hand, Dean wants nothing more than to beat that slimy creep to a pulp; on the other hand, he doesn't know what Alastair is really capable of doing. He probably shouldn't underestimate him. 

 

“Dean, is that you?”

 

For a second, Dean freezes again but then he feels like he could crack up with laughter. It's  _ not _ Alastair. He sighs, running his hand through his hair and entering the kitchen, where the voice came from. John is leaning against the counter, fiddling with a beer-bottle cap, and Dean is actually kind of glad to see his father. 

 

“Hi, dad,” he says, leaning against the door frame with his right shoulder.

 

John returns his look, but then his eyes light on the bag Dean is still holding, and he wrinkles his brow. “Where you're going?” 

 

Dean looks at the bag as well, biting his lip. He doesn't want to tell his father that he's going to stay at his boyfriend's house for a while – now is not the right time for this kind of coming out. Hell, if there ever will be a right time for it. “Er, to a friend,” he says.

 

“And what about Sam?” John asks, as if it didn't occur to him that he could look after Sammy for once as well.

 

“He's at a friend's place, too.”

 

John squints at him, putting the beer-bottle cap on the counter. “How long are you going to stay away?”

 

“Just for a few days,” Dean says, a bit evasively. 

 

“And you didn't think about asking first?” Slowly but surely, John's anger starts to surface, visibly in his eyes and by the way his jaw clenches.

 

“I'm of legal age, dad,” Dean says, not in the mood for a fight. He just wants to bring Sammy his stuff and to get back to Castiel.

 

“What about Sam?” 

 

Dean looks at John questioningly. “What about Sam?” he asks back. Is John honestly implying that they should have asked him first? He's rarely home. Sometimes, they don't see him for days, or don't even hear anything from him for days. 

 

“Sam  _ isn't _ of legal age. He has to ask me first,” John says as a matter of course.

 

“Oh, now you want to act like a responsible parent?” Dean asks, and he could bite his tongue instantly.  _ Fuck. _ He swallows, shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders, trying to think of a way so the situation won't get out of hand – once again.

 

John is staring at him and his eyes are emitting angry sparks. “What did you just say?”

 

“I...,” Dean starts, looking at the clock on the microwave. He should have been at Gabriel's place and brought Sam his stuff by now. They're probably already waiting for him. “I don't have time for this right now. I have to go.”

 

“Don't you dare just turn around and walk away!” John yells at him.

 

Dean steps back a bit, tightening his grip on the bag. “Dad, please calm down,” he says as soothingly as possible. He really doesn't want to fight right now – he doesn't have the energy for it.

 

“Don't tell me what to do,” John says loudly, but at least he isn't yelling anymore. 

 

“I'm sorry we didn't ask,” Dean forces himself to say. He just wants to calm John down and to leave the house. 

 

“No, you're not,” John says and walks towards him. Dean tenses up, but John walks past him and into the hallway. “You're not sorry,” he mutters, huffing a breath. 

 

Dean looks back into the kitchen and sees the almost empty beer bottle on the counter. How much did John drink today? Could he dare to just leave? He glances at the front door and then at John, who's still standing with his back to him. Dean sighs. “Dad, I really have to go now.”

 

John turns around slowly, and he hasn't looked this disappointed at him for quite a while. Suddenly, there is a hollow feeling in Dean's stomach. After all, he still wants to impress his father, he still doesn't want him to think badly of him, he still doesn't want him to be disappointed by him. He starts to chew on the inside of his cheek.  _ Fucking daddy issues. _

 

Dean looks at the floor, avoiding John's gaze. He clears his throat. “Sam is waiting for me,” he says quietly, looking up reluctantly. “See you around.” He adjusts the strap of the bag on his shoulder and starts to walk down the hallway. He remembers the last time John and he had a fight – it was in this hallway and John hit him.  _ Though, how likely is it that this will happen again? _

 

He thinks he shouldn't think such a stupid question, when John says his name. Dean stops, sighing internally. Fucking hell, whatever. He can hear John's heavy boots and turns around. But he didn't expect John to be this close already and he's barely able to react to the fist that's aimed for his face. John only hauls off once, though it's enough to create a fresh bruise near Dean's left eye. The force of the punch tosses Dean's head sideways, and he groans. 

 

“Fucking hell,” he mutters. “What...?” He stares at John, who just stares back at him for a moment before turning around. At the door to his room, he looks back at Dean. “Don't pretend you didn't deserve it.” With that, John disappears into his bedroom, leaving Dean standing in the hallway, totally confused. 

 

With an exasperated sigh, Dean turns around and leaves the house, slamming the door shut behind him. Now, he's in a really bad mood.  _ This is just fucking fantastic. _

 

He throws the bag on the backseat and gets in the Impala, having a look at his face in the rear-view mirror before he starts the engine. There's already a lump forming beneath his eye, red and lilac.  _ Fucking fantastic, _ he thinks again as he drives to Gabriel's house. He parks by the side of the road, getting his clothes out of the bag and putting them on the passenger seat, so he can give the bag to his little brother.

 

Gabe answers the door after Dean rang the bell. “Hello, Dean-o,” he says with a grin, but then he sees the bruise beneath his eye, and his grin fades. “What happened to your face?”

 

“Yeah, what happened to your face?” Sam asks, appearing next to Gabriel and staring at Dean's face. 

 

“I had a little encounter with dad,” Dean mumbles, pushing the bag into Sam's hands. Sam presses his lips together, looking angry. 

 

“Hey, I'm fine,” Dean says. “It's nothing.”

 

“Sure,” Sam says sarcastically. 

 

“Well, at least it wasn't an encounter with Alastair,” Gabriel says, giving them a half-smile by quirking up only one corner of his mouth. 

 

“See? It could have been worse,” Dean says.

 

“It still sucks,” is all Sam says, and Dean couldn't agree more with him. But he doesn't want his little brother to be angry. “Really, I'm fine, Sammy. Enjoy the next days. If anything comes up, give me a ring.”

 

“Nothing will come up. I'm looking after him. Everything will be fine,” Gabriel says, leaning against the door frame. “No one has any reason to worry.”

 

“What about Alastair?” Sam asks, looking at Gabe – he doesn't have to look up at him, though; they're almost the same height. Dean has to suppress a grin at that thought. 

 

“We easily outnumber him,” Gabriel answers confidently. Dean points at him. “Listen to this guy. Everything's fine. You know where to find me, if anything's wrong.” He ruffles Sam's hair, smiling down at him and turning around.

 

“But nothing is going to be wrong,” Gabriel calls after him. Dean chuckles. He's starting to really like this weird guy. 

 

Feeling a bit better again, Dean drives over to the Novak's house, although the lump beneath his eye keeps throbbing. He parks next to Lucifer's car and doesn't have to ring the bell. Apparently, Castiel heard the Impala and already opened the front door. He's smiling as he watches Dean getting out of the car, but the smile quickly disappears, when he sees his face. Dean sighs.

 

“Hey,” he says.

 

“What happened to your face?”

 

“Dad,” Dean says, gritting his teeth and wrapping his arms around Cas. Cas doesn't hug him back, but rather puts his hands on Dean's chest and urges him to step back, so he can have a better look at his face.

 

“It's okay,” Dean mumbles, taking Castiel's hand. “I'm okay.”

 

“Mh, sure,” Cas says, not sounding convinced and still looking at the fresh bruise. 

 

“Hey, Dean,” Lucifer says, who's just coming downstairs. 

 

“Hi,” Dean says.

 

Lucifer looks at him and clearly wants to ask what happened, but Cas shakes his head and Dean is glad that he doesn't have to answer the question  _ What happened to your face? _ yet again. 

 

“Does anybody want to cook tonight?” Lucifer asks instead. “Because I don't want to.”

 

“I can't really cook,” Dean admits.

 

“We could make pizza. Missouri gave me her recipe,” Cas says. “It's really easy and doesn't take long.”

 

“Sounds good,” Lucifer says, and Dean nods, agreeing silently. 

 

Before Cas and he go upstairs, Cas already prepares the pizza dough, so it can rise. Dean watches him silently, adoring the way Castiel bites his lip as always when he concentrates on a task, glad that Lucifer is in the living room and doesn't keep an eye on him at the moment. Then, they go into Cas' room until it's time to actually start making the pizza. 

 

“Are you really okay?” Castiel asks as soon as he closed the door behind him. Dean returns his look, reaching his hands out for Cas and putting them on his waist, pulling him closer. The blue-eyed boy puts his hands on either side of his face, kissing him softly. “Now, I'm okay,” Dean says quietly.

 

Cas rolls his eyes, huffing a small breath. But he kisses him again, longer and much more passionately. Dean goes along with it, because kissing Castiel banishes everything negative from his mind. His grip on Cas' waist tightens, and the blue-eyed boy is running his fingers through his hair. Dean backs out until his legs hit the edge of Cas' bed and he lets himself fall backwards, pulling Cas along with him, who lands on top of him and chuckles before he kisses him again.

 

But all of a sudden, Dean remembers something and flips them over, so that he's on top. “We can't,” he whispers against Castiel's lips. “Your brother is downstairs. Remember? I don't want to mess with him.”

 

“Then be quiet,” Cas whispers back, crushing their mouths together. But Dean pulls away, propping himself up on his elbows and looking down at the blue-eyed boy a little in disbelief, though he's also massively turned on by him right now. “Are you serious?”

 

As an answer, Cas puts his hands on Dean's sides and surges his hips upwards slightly. A moan escapes Dean's lips at that. One of Cas' hands slide up to the back of his head and he pulls him down for a kiss again. Dean can't help it, he kisses Cas back, even plunges his tongue into Cas' mouth, on his part getting a moan out of the blue-eyed boy. 

 

“Didn't you say something about being quiet?” Dean murmurs teasingly after he pulled away ever so slightly. Castiel huffs another breath, but Dean just kisses him again before he can say something, rolling his hips down and against Castiel's. Cas smiles briefly against his lips and starts meeting his thrusts. Neither of them lasts very long, they don't even take off their clothes, though Dean slips his hands underneath Castiel's sweater and lets them roam over Cas' torso. Cas clings to his back, pulling him down even more, trying to grunt as quietly as possible. Even the feeling of their dicks rubbing together through their pants is amazing, and Dean comes first in his sweatpants (the only pair he has with him), hiding his face in the crook of Cas' neck, sucking on the skin there to stop himself from groaning too loudly. Castiel follows suit just a few moments later. 

 

It takes them a minute or two to catch their breath again. Dean is still lying on top of Cas, chuckling faintly. Cas turns his head a bit, kissing his temple. “You're okay?” he asks softly, but his gravelly voice is even rougher than usually, and Dean thinks that he really likes that – it's hot.

 

“Mh-hm,” Dean makes, lifting his head so he's able to look Castiel in the eye. “I'm okay. You?”

 

“Too,” Cas murmurs, kissing him gently. “But I think we should change clothes.” He grimaces, and Dean does too at the stickiness inside of his pants. He sighs, nevertheless getting up only reluctantly – it's just too good to lay on top of the blue-eyed boy. 

 

He confesses that he might have forgotten to pack extra sweatpants, and Cas squints at him, though he actually gets a pair of his sweatpants out of his closet for Dean. 

 

“You  _ forgot, _ huh?” he says, when he gives them to Dean, with a small smirk on his lips.

 

“Yeah, I forgot,” Dean says, taking the sweatpants and grinning a little. “Thank you.”

 

They get changed, and it doesn't escape Dean's notice how Cas looks at him, when he's put on the sweatpants. He can't hide his smile and he doesn't even want to. Cas returns his smile. “Come on, let's make a fantastic calzone.” 

 

Castiel takes his hand and Dean intertwines their fingers, kissing him on the cheek. 

 

Yeah, he's okay. As long as Cas is there, he's always going to be okay.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Cas hasn't seen Dean this angry for quite a while now. It's scaring him. Not that he's afraid Dean will take it out on him, hell no – he's afraid because of Dean, that Dean will take it out on  _ himself. _ His anger is always so visible, and Cas knows that it's eating Dean up inside. He wants to be there for his boyfriend, and to help him. The matter with Alastair is simply fucked up. Hell, Castiel is angry himself. He fucking hates Alastair and what he's doing to them. He wants to help Dean, and he notices that the green-eyed boy actually does calm down a little bit, when he's with him. So, Cas makes a point of distracting Dean – of distracting the both of them. 

 

The situation is exhausting him as well. Because Dean is tensed most of the time, Cas is tensed as well. They don't know what Al is going to do next –  _ if _ he's going to do something again. But they do know that Alastair is capable of doing something again, maybe something much worse. It upsets Cas greatly. He doesn't want to think about Alastair the whole time of all things, though he basically has to force himself to think about something else. 

 

He wants to concentrate on his relationship with Dean. There's a certain tenseness, but that's only because of the situation with Alastair. Everything's fine between Dean and him. Their relationship is going very well, but Cas is thinking about taking the next step in their – sexual – relationship. What they've done so far was amazing, and Cas loved it, simply because it was with Dean. He's never felt more secure than when he's with the green-eyed boy. And he's already so much more confident in this matter. Therefore, he decides to talk to Dean about this, being sure it will distract them both successfully from Alastair, and that's exactly what they need.

 

The next Sunday – Dean is still at their house – Sam and Gabriel come over to show them the card tricks Gabe taught Sam. This way they pass the afternoon relatively quickly and then they decide to keep it this way for the time being, because it's working – Sam can stay at Gabriel's place and Dean can stay at the Novak's house. They promise Sam to get him more of his stuff tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow, and he agrees to it. 

 

Cas and Dean retreat to Cas' room after dinner until it's time for them to go to sleep, since they both have to work tomorrow. Cas takes Dean's hand and pulls him to the bed, his heart beating a little bit faster than usual due to the fact that he's a little bit nervous. Dean smiles softly at him. “Is something wrong?”

 

“No,” Cas says as they sit down. “I just... wanted to talk to you.”

 

Dean squeezes his hand, leaning closer to him. “About?”

 

Cas looks at the green-eyed boy for a moment, mouth slightly hanging open. He takes a deep breath. “Sex.”

 

Dean's eyebrows shoot towards the ceiling in surprise. He lets out a small chuckle. “Wow. Okay, you don't beat around the bush. What exactly do you mean?” There's a twinkle in Dean's eyes.

 

Cas tries to ignore that twinkle, since it's only making his heart beat even faster. He takes another deep breath.  _ Fuck. _ This shouldn't be so difficult, right? After all, they're in a relationship and they talk about these things. He notices that he slowly but surely starts to blush, and bites his lip. “Anal sex.” He pushes the words out of his mouth before he can change his mind.

 

Now, Dean is biting his lip as well, and Cas isn't sure if he's trying to suppress a grin. 

 

“You can laugh at me,” he sighs, shrugging his shoulders halfheartedly. 

 

Dean tilts his head a bit. “I'm not laughing at you,” he says seriously. “Really,” he adds, when he sees the incredulous look in Castiel's eyes. “Though, are you sure about it?”

 

“About doing  _ it, _ or the talking about it?” Cas asks with a small smile.

 

“Both, I guess,” Dean replies with a small smile of his own.

 

“About the talking – yes, I am sure,” Cas says. He briefly presses his lips together. “About actually doing it – no, I think. I don't know. That's why I want to talk to you about it.”

 

Dean nods, leaning even closer and kissing him on the cheek. “Okay. That's... that's great.”

 

Cas looks at him questioningly, a little bit confused. He creases his forehead.

 

“I mean – that you want to talk to me about it,” Dean explains, shrugging once. “You know, instead of bottling up.”

 

“I get what you mean,” Cas says, starting to smile again. “So,...” he says without knowing how to continue. Dean smirks at him. “Yeah?”

 

Cas shakes his head. “Do you want to do it?”

 

Dean looks at him, swallowing. “Cas, that's out of question,” he says quietly. “Of course, I want to. But we're only going to do it, if you want to and if you are ready for it and sure about it.”

 

Castiel's head starts to swim a little at the words  _ Cas, that's out of question. _ He returns Dean's look, feeling relieved and a bit more confident again. “Okay. That sounds good. But we can already talk about it, right?”

 

“What's there to talk about?”

 

“If we do it for the first time – ...um, I want to... to do it,” Cas says. “If that's okay,” he adds hastily, not sure what Dean is thinking.

 

“You want to top?” Dean asks bluntly, rubbing his neck with his free hand.

 

“Yeah.” Cas nods. “Only if it's okay. I'm not sure about... I mean, I don't know if I could do it already, when you...”

 

Dean kisses him gently. “Of course, it's okay. Everything you want.” He smiles against Castiel's lips, who smiles back a little hesitantly. 

 

“What?” the green-eyed boy asks. “Did I say something wrong?”

 

Cas swallows, looking Dean in the eye. “I just... I don't want our relationship to be  _ one-sided.  _ You give and give, and I have the feeling I don't give you enough... you're so understanding and considerate of me... and I...”

 

Again, Dean just kisses him, probably to get him to shut up – well, he is successful with that. Cas looks at him quizzically after Dean pulled away. 

 

“Castiel,” Dean says, slightly shaking his head and returning Cas' look with the softest expression in his green eyes. Cas is back on that clearing and he can practically feel the cool and comforting wind that's blowing gently on his face. 

 

Dean bites his lip, putting a hand on Castiel's cheek. “I don't know how to tell you... you're everything to me.” Dean's voice is almost sounding urgently. “It's already enough to simply have you by my side. Everything else is... is a bonus I could have never even hoped for.” He looks down at his other hand that's laying on Castiel's leg, drawing circles with his forefinger on the material of Cas' sweatpants. Cas can see the faint blush on Dean's cheeks, and he starts to smile softly, leaning forward and burying his face into Dean's hair, breathing him in for a few seconds before pulling away again and kissing Dean's forehead. 

 

He puts a hand under Dean's chin, making the green-eyed boy look him in the eye again. “Do you really think of me like that?”

 

Dean opens his mouth, but he doesn't say something and just nods.

 

“Then I'm even luckier than I could have ever hoped to be.”

 


	26. Chapter 26

“Are you okay?”

 

Cas looks up from the notepad that he stared at absentmindedly for the last three minutes, and sees Pamela standing in front of him, looking at him questioningly, her eyes full of worries. He smiles weakly at her. “Yeah, I'm okay. It's just a lot on my mind at the moment.”

 

“Missouri called me and told me about Alastair. I'm really sorry,” Pamela says, wrapping her arms around him. Castiel hugs her back. “If you need some time out, that's no problem. I can work double shifts for a while, or maybe I'll find a temporary help.”

 

Cas shakes his head before she's even able to finish her sentence. “No, god no. There's no need for that.”

 

Pamela crosses her arms in front of her chest, raising her eyebrows at him. “Are you really sure?”

 

“I am sure. I promise,” Cas says. “I... I want to work.”

 

“Okay.” Pamela nods slowly. “And between Dean and you is everything okay?”

 

“Yes, it's going very well. He's,” Cas shrugs a little, “just amazing.”

 

There's a knowing smile on Pamela's lips. “Do you love him?”

 

Surprised, Castiel looks at her. He opens his mouth, not knowing what to say to that. Yes – he  _ does _ love Dean, but he hasn't told the green-eyed boy yet. “I, uh,...” He looks down briefly before looking back up. Pamela cocks her head to the side, raising one eyebrow at him. Cas bites his lip and lets out a small chuckle. He nods. “Yeah.”

 

Pamela hugs him again. “He's a very lucky guy,” she whispers. “Have you told him?”

 

“No,” Cas says quietly. “But I will.” He nods again. Though, he doesn't know yet when he'll tell Dean that he loves him. But he's going to tell him – eventually; he's sure about that. He returns Pamela's smile and gets back to work. 

 

He isn't at his best lately, because of the matter with Alastair – because of the resulting tenseness. But the reason why he's so distracted now is not Alastair. It's  _ Dean _ – and their conversation about sex. The conversation Castiel started. He actually did that. 

 

Castiel pauses for a second. But no – he doesn't regret it. He's glad about being able to do so. Dean didn't laugh at him, he didn't make fun of him – the green-eyed boy took him completely seriously. He smiles to himself. Dean is perfect. He is perfect for him. Cas bites his lip, but he shakes off the feeling that he doesn't deserve Dean. Once again, he has to tell himself that _it's_ _Dean's decision_ , and not his. If Dean wants him and if Dean wants to stay with him, if Dean wants to be considerate of him and if Dean doesn't mind all his problems, then it is Dean's decision. And it isn't down to Castiel to tell him otherwise. 

 

The rest of his shift, he is able to concentrate on his work properly, and Pamela winks at him when they say  _ See you tomorrow! _ . Cas rolls his eyes, but he gives her one last smile before he leaves the diner. He gets his cigarette pack out of the pocket of his trenchcoat and notes that there are only two cigarettes left. Sighing, he lights the first one and decides to make a detour to a convenience store to get a new pack of cigarettes. 

 

He wanders through the aisles – maybe he could also get some cookies or so – and stops in a certain section in the back of the store. He bites his lip a bit harder than maybe necessary and wrinkles his brow. Cas is standing alone in the aisle and he looks around, a faint blush covering his cheeks. Well, Dean and he have talked about sex, and maybe it would do Cas good if they were a little _spontaneous,_ he thinks. But then, he should be prepared for it, right? And he doesn't know whether or not Dean provided for this in advance, and if they're at Castiel's place, then _he_ should provide for this in advance.

 

_ Right? _

 

Cas stares at the little boxes of condoms and the tubes with lubricants.  _ What the hell, right? _ He grabs a box of condoms and a small bottle of lube, and walks up to the front of the store, putting a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, the lube and the condoms on the counter. The cashier is a young woman, who smiles friendly at him, while scanning the items and telling him his total price. Cas pays and pockets everything, giving her a small smile in return. “Have a nice day.”

 

“You too,” she replies.

 

Stepping outside, he lights the last cigarette from his old pack, throwing it away, together with the plastic that was wrapped around his new pack of cigarettes. He takes a long drag, starting to walk home. Cas can't help it, he smiles around his cigarette.  _ Whatever, _ he thinks, staring at the clouds above him. At the moment, it doesn't snow but the weather presenter on the radio said that it's supposed to snow again the next days. His smile widens at that, and he takes another pull on his cigarette. 

 

The day after tomorrow, there is a huge Thanksgiving dinner at Missouri's house – like every year. He's looking forward to it. It's going to be his first Thanksgiving together with Dean, and he doesn't have to think for long about what he's thankful for. He has the feeling Dean is looking forward to it as well; the whole thing with Alastair is wearing him out. What's a better distraction than an evening with all of their friends? Cas remembers the last Thanksgiving dinners very well – there's always a lot of food and many people, and it's always pretty loud. They're probably not even able to waste much thought on Alastair, then. It'd do them both good, and also the others, who are worried about them, too. 

 

What did Gabriel tell him the other day?  _ Friends are like food. If they're really good, you can never have enough of them. _

 

Castiel chuckles, letting out a sigh and shaking his head. Gabriel's little bit of wisdom may not be totally mature, but it's also not completely wrong. Cas is almost home, and he thinks that – yeah, sometimes life isn't as bad as it always seems. Sure, there's the situation with Alastair, but apart from that everything's  _ fine.  _ He has Dean, he has his friends, and he has his work. There's a certain order in his life at the moment, and it balances the chaos in his mind out. And when he's with Dean, he's feeling  _ happy. _ When he's with Dean he's more excited about than he's afraid of  _ being alive _ – and that's a pretty good feeling.

 

When Dean and he drive to Missouri's house two days later, holding hands and listening to a song by some rock band, he agrees with himself. If  _ being alive _ means  _ being alive together with Dean Winchester, _ then it can only be good. 

 

Dean parks by the side of the road in front of Missouri's house, right behind Charlie's and Gabriel's cars. Pretty much everyone is already there. Garth opens the door for them, greeting them both with a hug. Cas chuckles, hugging Garth back. Dean seems a little bit reluctant, but he lets Garth hug him briefly as well, smiling sheepishly at Cas. Castiel grins back at him, taking his hand as they follow Garth into the living room. 

 

“Garth just does that,” he whispers. Dean nods, and his smiles widens. 

 

Dorothy comes over to them, throwing her arms around Dean's neck, catching the green-eyed boy totally off guard – it's obvious that Dean didn't expect this enthusiastic greeting. Cas giggles, greeting the others and looking around. 

 

Charlie rolls her eyes halfheartedly at her girlfriend, though a small smile is gracing her lips, and slings her arm around Cas' shoulders. “Happy Thanksgiving!”

 

Gabriel and Benny wave at them from their places on the couch. Missouri enters the living room, with flour on her sweater and a spoon in her hand, giving them both warm hugs before pointing at Gabriel. “Boy, you put your foot on my coffee table, I'm 'a whack you with this spoon!”

 

Gabe raises his hands, looking genuinely offended. “I didn't do anything!”

 

“Well, you were thinking about it! Just so you know, it applies to everybody.” 

 

Cas doesn't even try to suppress his grin – he can see the twinkle in her brown eyes. Dean has raised his eyebrows, and he's returning Castiel's grin. Missouri winks at them, going back into the kitchen. Gabriel shakes her head. “Can you believe this?”

 

“Well, who wouldn't love it to hit you with a spoon?” Benny asks. 

 

Gabe shoots him a dirty look. “Funny.”

 

“Hey, Gabe. Where's Sammy?” Dean asks, changing the topic.

 

For a moment, Gabe looks at Dean questioningly as if he forgot about his little brother. Then, he starts to laugh. “He's upstairs, looking through Missouri's mini library for a school project.”

 

Dean furrows his brow. “It's Thanksgiving break.”

 

“Yeah, but I've got homework to do,” sounds from behind Cas and Dean, and they turn around. Sam just came downstairs with three heavy books in his hands. 

 

“You're such a geek,” Dean says, rolling his eyes. But there's still a soft smile playing on his lips that doesn't escape Castiel's notice.

 

“Hey, Sam,” he says to hide his own smile. He hasn't seen Dean's little brother since Sunday, because he had to work and Dean and Sam spent some brotherly time together – they went to the movies and to some railroad museum that Sam really wanted to visit, so Dean obliged. 

 

“Hi, Cas.”

 

Cas just wanted to ask for what exactly Sam needs these books, when the bell rings. “I'll answer the door,” he says, leaving the living room.

 

Meg, Balthazar and Pamela are standing on Missouri's front porch, and they hurry inside to escape the November cold. 

 

“Oh, Clarence, I absolutely love this color,” Meg says as soon as she sees Castiel's fingernails. Cas smiles softly at her. “Thank you.” Pleased, he looks at his purple glitter nail polish that he applied to his fingernails earlier.

 

The house is starting to fill up with people, and the delicious smell of Missouri's cooking is wafting from the kitchen. On a rotating basis, everyone helps Missouri, so she doesn't have to cook the whole dinner on her own. Of course, Pamela and Benny are of great assistance to her, because they're both working in that kind of business. Missouri gives everybody else only minor tasks, just to make sure that nobody ruins the dinner by accident. 

 

Lucifer arrives together with Kevin and Billie, who he picked up from their homes so their parents didn't have to drive them. Kevin and Sam are deep in conversation quickly and the topic is Sam's latest school project; they sit down on the couch and Kevin has a look at the books Sam brought downstairs. Billie joins Garth, Benny and Missouri in the kitchen. Gadreel is the last to arrive, but he brings beer and his grandma's popular pumpkin pie with walnut crust, so Gabriel speaks for everyone and says that the best comes always last, making everyone around him laugh. 

 

They all split up in little groups and spread out through the house. Sam, Kevin and Gabriel go upstairs to look through Missouri's books and find a few more for Sam; Castiel, Benny, Missouri and Charlie finish cooking and start to get enough dishes out of the cupboards for everyone; Dorothy, Pamela and Dean sit on the couch in the living room and talk about cars and motorcycles; Balthazar and Meg go outside to smoke a cigarette and when they come back inside, they join the others in the kitchen; Lucifer, Garth, Billie and Gadreel are also in the living room, talking about school, their work and the latest movies. 

 

When dinner is ready, Missouri calls them and tells them it's the same as every year – explaining for the new ones (Dean and Sam and also Dorothy) that everyone grabs a plate and cutlery and get as much food as they want, but in a civilized kind of way. She doesn't want unnecessary chaos in her house. And when they're well supplied, they can just find a free place to sit and eat, and they should remember that not everyone fits in her kitchen. Cas lets out a chuckle at that and his and Gabriel's eyes meet; Gabe winks at him. Dean looks at them quizzically and curiously.

 

“I think it was two years ago –,” Cas starts, looking at Meg and grimacing. Her brow furrows. “Yeah, it was two years ago,” she says. 

 

“So, two years ago,” he continues, “we  _ did _ try to fit into this kitchen. Needless to say, it was kind of a catastrophe.”

 

“Maybe it wouldn't have been a catastrophe, if there hadn't been the food fight,” Lucifer remarks with a grin. 

 

“Oh, the food fight,” Gabe says with a dreamy expression on his face. “What a glorious memory.”

 

Missouri rolls her eyes, sighing heavily. “I did not sign up for this.”

 

“Hey, everybody helped cleaning up the mess,” Charlie interjects, shrugging her shoulders. 

 

With that, the talking comes to an end and  _ the party _ starts. Because that's what the Thanksgiving dinner usually is – a party. There is background music and at some point, someone – usually Meg or Gabriel, and sometimes Charlie when it's a song she loves – turns up the volume more and more. It's not an evening to get drunk, but rather to have some fun, to have some good conversations, to eat good food, to listen to good music, to dance a bit, to laugh a lot and  _ to be thankful. _

 

Cas grabs Dean's hand and get in line behind Benny. Everybody takes as much food as fits on their plates before finding a place to sit. Dean and he go into the living room and sit on the couch, together with Kevin and Billie. Charlie and Dorothy squashed into an armchair and Lucifer sits down in the other one. Missouri, Gadreel, Benny and Balthazar sit down at the kitchen table, and Meg and Pamela sit on the countertop. Gabriel, Sam and Garth sit on the fleecy carpet in the middle of the living room. For a long time, no one really says something and they all just eat – it's an unspoken rule that you have to try everything at least.

 

And there is a lot of food to have a taste of. Roast turkey, roasted sweet potato casserole with praline, green beans with bacon, cracked pepper dinner rolls, potato and celery root gratin, avocado-papaya salad, Brussels sprouts with bacon and roasted chestnuts, apple pie with rosemary and honey, pumpkin pie with walnut crust, and fall apple cranberry pie. Cas isn't sure if that's a good or a bad thing, but everything tastes absolutely  _ fantastic. _

 

When they're finally eating the dessert, Dean is grinning at him. “Best Thanksgiving dinner ever!”

 

Kevin, Sam, Garth and Dorothy volunteer for helping Missouri to do the dishes. Under the guidance of Pamela, Charlie and Benny make hot chocolate for everyone. Gabriel turns up the volume of the music, when  _ Somebody Loves You _ starts to play on the radio, and Balthazar rolls his eyes at him, though he doesn't suppress his smile, when Dean takes Cas' hand and pulls him into the middle of the room. Cas can't help but starting to smile as well, but he still looks at Dean wonderingly.

 

The green-eyed boy just takes also his other hand and puts Castiel's hands on his shoulders before he puts his own hands on Cas' waist, pulling him closer. Charlie enters the living room, holding two cups of hot chocolate that she gives to Gabriel and Balthazar. Dorothy is right behind her, shaking her head at Cas and Dean, and sighing heavily, when Charlie takes her hand and wants to dance with her as well. Castiel winks at them, and Meg huffs a breath, when she enters the living room again as well and sees them. “That's so gay.”

 

“It'd be kind of weird, if it wasn't so gay,” Gabe chuckles. “Hey, this is actually good.” He points at the cup of hot chocolate in his hand, looking at Charlie in astonishment. 

 

“What? Why is that so surprising?” Charlie asks, returning Gabe's look with furrowed brow. 

 

Dean huffs a laugh, and Castiel wants to say something, but then his phone starts to ring. He gets it out of the back pocket of his jeans, looking at the screen and his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “It's Crowley.”

 

He answers the call, leaving the living room, traversing the hallway and going outside, pushing the door to and then he's standing on the front porch. “Did you hear them?” he asks, chuckling – meaning Meg, Charlie, Gabriel and Dorothy who all screamed  _ hi _ very loudly. 

 

“I'm not deaf.” Crowley huffs a breath and he's probably rolling his eyes. “Of course, I've heard them. So, you're all at Missouri's house, I guess?”

 

“Yes, like every year on Thanksgiving. Do you miss us?” Cas says teasingly. 

 

“I miss the food the most,” the Brit replies, and now Cas rolls his eyes. “But yeah, it's different and kind of odd not to be there right now.”

 

“We miss you too,” Cas says. “How are you spending Thanksgiving in New York?”

 

“With some of my new friends. We've got beer, turkey, and some marijuana. So, I'm good.”

 

“That's the main thing,” Castiel says with a smile. “But you have to visit again – soon. Okay?” 

 

“Hey, I'm trying my best. But college is hard, too. How is it going with Dean?”

 

“Good,” Cas says. “He's... amazing.”

 

“Have you told him that you love him?” the Brit asks, and Cas can hear his sly smile in his voice. He shakes his head, looking up at the clouds. “No, I haven't.”

 

“But you do love him, right?”

 

“Yes, I do,” he answers quietly, biting his lip.

 

“I'm happy for you Castiel. He does you good. Though, I want to have a talk with him, when I'll visit you again.”

 

“What? Why?” Cas wonders, a bit confused.

 

“I'm your best friend,” Crowley says, as if it's obvious what he means. “I have to talk with him about you.”

 

“I already had an embarrassing evening, when Lucifer wanted to meet Dean  _ officially.” _

 

“When have I ever been embarrassing? Besides, I just want to make sure that he's actually okay.”

 

“Are you already high?” 

 

“Funny, Novak. This talk with Dean is still going to happen.”

 

“Oh Fergus, that's really not necessary.”

 

“I hate you so much. You know very well that I hate that name,” Crowley complains.

 

Cas laughs mischievously. “Don't overdo, okay? We'll talk about your talk with Dean again.”

 

“Maybe,” Crowley decides. “Have fun, and say hello to the others from me.”

 

“I will. You too.”

 

The rest of the evening is indeed a lot of fun. There is beer, music, dancing, holding hands with Dean, hot chocolate, cookies, and there are also quite a few kisses. Everybody forgets about Alastair for the time being, and they simply enjoy their being together. It's always difficult to get everyone together, but they all agree that there are a few days, where they just have to – though they're not complete, since Crowley is in New York and not here. But otherwise, everyone made it. And it was really worthwhile. 

 

Around 10:30 pm – Cas feels not tired at all – Lucifer comes over to him, already putting on his jacket. Castiel wrinkles his brow a bit, looking at his big brother questioningly. “You're leaving?” he asks.

 

Lucifer nods. “Yeah, I'm meeting with a friend.”

 

Cas grins at him. “A friend, huh? When am I going to meet her  _ officially?” _

 

“Funny,” Lucifer says, rolling his eyes. “Eventually, I think,” he adds anyway. “Is it okay, if you have the house to yourself?”

 

“When are you going to come home?”

 

“Tomorrow, sometime during the day. I don't know yet.”

 

Cas nods, raising his eyebrows. “Okay. Then, have fun, I guess. I don't want to know any details, though.”

 

“Take the beer away from him,” Lucifer says to Benny, who's just walking past them. Benny chuckles at that.

 

“Okay, I've got to go. Behave yourself.”

 

Cas returns his look scandalized. “You know me.”

 

“That's the reason why I'm telling you to behave yourself.” Lucifer huffs a breath. “See you,” he says, turning around and leaving the living room.

 

“See you tomorrow,” Cas calls after him, taking another sip of his beer.

 

“Hey, Cas,” Lucifer calls from the hallway, and he follows his brother, who's already standing outside on the front porch. Cas leans against the door frame. “What?”

 

“If Dean stays another night, he's going to sleep in the guestroom. Do you understand?”

 

Cas sighs, rolling his eyes and shaking his head, but Lucifer keeps staring at him with a stern expression on his face. “Yeah, I understand,” he replies. “Go, or she'll think you forgot about her.”

 

Lucifer lets out a chuckle, but he finally turns around, waving at Cas one last time, and walks over to his car and drives away. Castiel looks after him, ignoring the goosebumps on his arms beneath his sweater and biting his lip. 

 

“Hey, you're okay?” a voice behind him asks softly. 

 

Cas turns around and sees Dean standing in the hallway. He smiles at the green-eyed boy, coming back inside and closing the front door. Dean looks at him quizzically, but Cas just kisses him gently. “I'm okay. Let's dance some more.” He grabs Dean's hand and pulls him back into the living room, where Gabriel and Charlie are dancing. Dorothy is sitting in one of the armchairs, a chocolate muffin in her hand and laughing at Gabe's weird dance moves.

 

Dean wraps his arms around Cas from behind, kissing him on the cheek. They both ignore Balthazar, who tells them  _ to get a room. _ Castiel feels a new kind of excitement in the pit of his stomach – and he recognizes the feeling immediately. It's the way he always feels lately, when he thinks about Dean, about making out with Dean – and maybe right now he's thinking about actually sleeping with Dean.

 

And he's excited at that thought. 

 

Of course, there's also a certain nervousness inside of him, but it doesn't freak him out. Cas leans against the green-eyed boy, smiling softly and feeling weirdly confident. 

 

“What are you smiling about?” Dean murmurs, watching Dorothy getting up and starting to dance with Charlie again.

 

“You,” Cas answers simply, turning around so he's facing Dean. “I'm just glad you're here.”

 

Dean nods, still looking at him a little wonderingly. “Is there something else on your mind?”

 

Castiel's smile widens. “Maybe,” he says, shaking his head. “I'll tell you about it later.”

 

Dean returns his smile, looking curiously now. “Okay,” he says, leaning forward and kissing him.

 

Cas smiles into the kiss. It's Thanksgiving and he couldn't be more thankful. There's something smooth inside of him, making his heart flutter and sending a tingling sensation to the tips of his fingers. He's looking forward to  _ later. _

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Best Thanksgiving dinner ever,” Dean whispers into Castiel's ear again, when they're standing in the hallway. Cas returns his grin, but Charlie is drawing his attention to her, when she hugs him goodbye. 

 

“Today was so awesome,” Gabe says, fist-bumping Dean. “Hey, you're staying at Cas' place, or...”

 

Dean looks at the blue-eyed boy questioningly. “If I can...” He shrugs his shoulders a little bit.

 

Cas wrinkles his brow, seeming confused. “Of course, you can. And Sam stays at your place?” he asks Gabriel, who nods. “Benny does, too. And we bring Meg and Garth home.” 

 

“We can bring somebody home as well,” Dean says right away. 

 

“Great,” Gabe says, looking around. “Well, I think Pamela drives Kevin and Billie home, and Charlie takes Dorothy. I don't know about Garth and Balthazar, though.” He scratches his chin. “Yo!” he yells. “Garth! Balthazar! Dean and Cas drive you home, okay?”

 

“Why the fuck are you yelling?” Balthazar yells back. 

 

Gabriel throws his hands into the air. “You're yelling, too!”

 

“Because you started to yell at me,” Balthazar grumbles, coming over to them. Garth is right behind him, smiling at them. “Thanks for driving us home, guys.”

 

Dean chuckles and rolls his eyes at the same time. He sees the way Cas is smiling at his friends, seeming totally relaxed, and puts one hand on Cas' waist, standing right next to him. Cas looks at him, leaning against him. Dean sighs quietly, kissing the blue-eyed boy on the cheek. Castiel has come so far already and he's incredibly happy about that. To see Cas being so comfortable around him does Dean good. It helps him to relax as well. It causes a warm tingling sensation right in his bones. It calms him down.  _ Castiel _ calms him down.

 

He's still angry. He's still super fucking angry. But somehow Cas is able to take all his anger and put it away – for a while at least. It's Thanksgiving, and Dean couldn't be more thankful for the people around him.

 

It takes a while to farewell everybody, but eventually Dean and Castiel have hugged everyone and said their goodbyes. Missouri tells them all to drive carefully and that they should let her know, when they arrived safely. Dean, Cas, Garth and Balthazar get into the Impala – Balthazar hasn't seen Dean's car before and is very keen on it; Dean has to answer him a lot of question, but he actually doesn't mind, since he loves his car and talking about it. He notices the grin on Castiel's face at that and darts a look at the blue-eyed boy, who looks especially gorgeous like this – sitting in the passenger seat, illuminated by the passing street lights, eyes twinkling.

 

They drive Garth home first, and then Balthazar, who pats them both on the shoulder when he says good night. During the drive to Cas' place, the blue-eyed boy scoots over and lays his head on Dean's shoulder.

 

“You okay?” he asks quietly, a bit surprised.

 

“Yeah, I'm okay.”

 

Dean has to look at the road, but he can hear Castiel's smile in his gravelly voice, and a smile of his own sneaks onto his lips. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, he parks his baby in front of the Novak's house.

 

“You really want to stay, right?” Cas asks, when they got out of the car and walk to the front door, getting his keys out of his pocket.

 

Dean cocks his head to the side. “Yeah, of course I want to stay. It's gonna be nice to have some time alone again. Where is Lucifer anyway?”

 

“I think he has a girlfriend, so at her place I'd say. Though, I don't know for sure, because he hasn't really told me anything yet.” Castiel shrugs his shoulders, and Dean nods as they enter the house.

 

“I'm actually glad that we're alone,” Cas says slowly, shrugging of his trenchcoat and hanging it on the coat rack. 

 

Dean removes his leather jacket, hanging it next to Cas' trenchcoat and looking at him questioningly. “Yeah? Why?”

 

Cas steps closer, putting a hand on the back of his head and pulling him into a kiss. A small groan slips out of his mouth and he puts his hands on Castiel's side and back, pulling him closer. Cas chuckles softly and breathlessly at the same time against his lips, pulling away a bit after a few minutes and running his hand through Dean's hair. Without saying a word, he takes his hand and leads him upstairs. Dean kind of wants to ask what's happening, but there's an unfamiliar certainty and confidence in Cas' blue eyes and in the grip of his hand. 

 

Castiel stops in the middle of the hallway, turning around to Dean with a grin on his face. “Lucifer said that if you're going to stay another night, you have to sleep in the guestroom.”

 

For a moment, Dean just stares at him and then, he returns Cas' grin. He pulls the blue-eyed boy closer, leaning against the wall with his right shoulder and tilting his head. Cas mirrors him, standing right next to him and putting his other hand on his cheek. There's a light in the ocean – as if someone threw a lantern into it that doesn't go out and just keeps shining right beneath the surface. Fascinated, Dean looks into Cas' eyes, swallowing. “If I had to guess, I'd say I'm not going to sleep in the guestroom,” he says, his eyes flickering briefly down to Castiel's lips before back up to his eyes.

 

Cas' grin disappears, but only because he starts to bite his lip. “I'd hoped you would stay in my room.”

 

“What about your brother?” Dean says, though he's not serious – hell, he wants to fall asleep next to Castiel again. 

 

“He's not here,” Cas says, thumbing at Dean's bottom lip. “Besides,” he only hesitates for one second, “I may have some ideas how we could take advantage of having the house to ourselves.”

 

“Some ideas, huh?” Dean breathes, and  _ fucking hell, _ his heart is already slamming against his ribcage. If this is going where he thinks it is going – “Are you sure?”

 

“Yes,” Castiel answers, without any hesitation, intertwining their fingers and starting to walk backwards to his bedroom door, pulling Dean along. There's a grin on Cas' face once again. “Remember? We've talked about this,” he says, opening the door.

 

Oh yeah, Dean remembers their talk just a few days ago, and he feels his dick twitching in his jeans. Is this actually going to happen right now? “And it's totally fine by you? I mean, you really want to do... right now...?” But the blue-eyed boy cuts him off with another kiss. Dean does want to say something else, though suddenly Cas' tongue is sliding into his mouth, and he forgets about it, putting his hands on either side of Castiel's face.

 

But he does remember to let Castiel lead the way. They're still going Cas' pace. Dean doesn't want to scare him all of a sudden by doing something wrong. Though, when Cas pulls away again, Dean plunges his tongue into Cas' mouth, making the blue-eyed boy moan – that sound seems to go to his cock right away, and he wants more of  _ this. _

 

“You're so fucking gorgeous,” he says, when they break off the kiss to catch their breath. 

 

Castiel huffs a small laugh, staring at him in amazement. “We should lie down.” He takes Dean's hands once again, gently urging him to lie down on the bed and Dean obeys with a smile. Cas climbs on top of him as soon as he's lying comfortably against the pile of pillows at the head of Castiel's bed. 

 

Carefully, Dean puts his hands on Cas' sides again, grinning up at him. Castiel leans down, gently nipping at Dean's jawline before he kisses him again. Dean lets his eyes fall closed, kissing the blue-eyed boy back and parting his lips so Cas can slide his warm tongue into his mouth again. He loses track of time, as always when they're together like this, holding on to Cas' back, letting one of his hands move up to the back of Cas' head, fingers threading through his dark hair, messing it up even more. When Cas nips at Dean's bottom lip experimentally, a lot of blood rushes southward and Dean's dick hardens more – and it coaxes a low groan out of him, causing Castiel to break off the kiss once again and looking down at him with dark eyes.

 

Dean is already panting, but he grabs the hem of Castiel's grey pullover with both hands. “Can I...?” he asks quietly, and Cas nods, sitting up straight. Dean sits up as well, pulling the pullover over Cas' head and throwing it to the side, so it lands somewhere on the floor. Cas starts to bite his lip, and Dean starts to marvel at the gorgeous boy in front of him once again. He leans forward, pressing his lips to the hollow of Cas' neck, who's reclining his head to give Dean more access. Of course, Dean makes full use of that right away, pressing open mouth kisses to the side of Cas' neck, sucking at the soft skin there and quickly finding Cas' sensitive spot. Cas is clinging to his shoulders and he can't suppress the moans that are escaping his lips every few seconds. Dean grins at that, leaving a trail of kisses down to Castiel's collarbone, running his hands up and down Cas' sides.

 

“Your turn,” Cas says – by now, he's panting as well.

 

Without a moment's thought or hesitation, Dean sheds his sweater as well, and Cas lets his eyes wander over his bare chest before he presses his hands against it, urging Dean to lie down properly again. Dean's back hits the pillows and Cas is on top of him in an instant, slotting one leg between Dean's legs, who parts them, groaning when Cas' thigh rubs against his growing erection. Cas' fingers are in his hair, tugging tentatively at his brown strands, and Dean plunges his tongue upwards into Cas' mouth, pressing a hand to the small of Cas' back and pulling him down on him even more. A warm feeling is pooling in the pit of Dean's stomach and he's excited – this is actually happening. 

 

After a few minutes, Castiel pulls away and sits up, looking down at Dean and touching his lips with a finger – the same finger wanders down, over his chin, his neck, briefly dancing over his collarbone before drawing a straight line down to his navel and then to the waistband of his jeans. Dean's breath hitches in his throat, and he swallows hard, staring up at the blue-eyed boy. In the soft glow of Cas' bedside lamp – the only light that's illuminating the room – Cas looks so warm, so gorgeous, so like everything Dean ever dreamed of wanting to have in his life. 

 

“Do you want to?” Cas asks him, his voice quiet, but rough and gentle at the same time.

 

Dean knows what he means. He returns Castiel's open and almost  _ vulnerable _ look and nods. “Yes, I want to,” he answers softly, feeling a sudden anticipation rushing through his blood and right to his cock that's twitching in his pants yet again. Then, a thought occurs to him. “Though, we need...” He wants to say  _ lube and condoms, _ but stops talking when he sees the shy grin on Cas' face.

 

Cas leans over to his nightstand, rummaging around in the drawer for a few seconds before he takes out a box with condoms and a small bottle of lube. Dean's eyebrows shoot towards the ceiling in surprise, opening his mouth and just huffing a small laugh. “God, did you actually plan this?” he asks, knowing very well that he's full hard by now.

 

“I... I just thought that I'm sure of wanting this and that it'd be good to have something here, if an opportunity should arise... so I bought these.” He looks at Dean a little bit sheepishly, who's fiddling with the tube of lube, not able to stop the grin that's spreading across his face.

 

“Cas, that was probably the best idea you've ever had,” he says, chuckling and putting the lube and condoms next to him on the bed. 

 

Castiel rolls his eyes at him, shaking his head. “You're making fun of me.”

 

“No, what? I'm not. I'm really not,” Dean says, putting his hands on Castiel's hips. “I'm not making fun of you,” he says seriously. “I'm glad you bought these. And I'm going to ask you one last time – are you sure of this?”

 

Cas looks at him for a moment and then he nods. “Yeah, I want to do this.”

 

“Okay. Awesome,” Dean whispers, removing his hands from Castiel's hips and opening the zipper of his jeans. Cas grins, pushing his hands aside and grabbing the waistband of Dean's jeans, who lifts his hips so Cas can pull it down and let it fall on the floor as well, leaving Dean only in his boxers. 

 

“My turn,” Dean says, helping Cas out of his jeans as well. The blue-eyed boy is hard too, his erection visible through the thin fabric of his boxers. He pulls Castiel back down on him, and their groins meet, punching a groan out of them both. They start to kiss again, tongues sliding smoothly together and hips rolling against each other. 

 

It's Castiel, who dips his thumbs under the waistband of Dean's boxers first, pulling them down. Again, Dean lifts his hips and Cas disregards his boxers, staring down at him, completely mesmerized. His eyes rake over Dean's naked body, who doesn't feel uncomfortable at all. 

 

“You're so beautiful,” Cas murmurs. 

 

Dean swallows, throat rippling, and returns Cas' look with wide eyes. He bites his lip, putting his hands on Cas' thighs and looking up at his face for permission. Cas nods once, letting Dean push his boxers down as well. “And you're gorgeous,” Dean whispers, pressing a soft kiss to Cas' lips.

 

Castiel chuckles, and Dean realizes that this is the first time they're completely naked together. For a moment, he's overwhelmed by the immense trust Cas is meeting him with. A little absentmindedly, he lets his fingers dance over the feathers on Castiel's arms.

 

“Are you okay?” Cas wonders, nipping at his lower lip.

 

Dean huffs a breath, nodding. “Yeah, I'm okay.” He furrows his brow. “Shouldn't I be the one asking you that question?”

 

Cas shakes his head. “We both need the other's reassurance.” 

 

Dean smiles against Castiel's lips, taking his face into his hands and crushing their mouths back together. One of Cas' hands is one the side of his neck, his thumb is caressing his cheek; his other hand wraps around Dean's cock. Dean groans loudly as the blue-eyed boy moves his hand up and down his shaft. For a while, there's just the movement of Cas' hand and the weight of the gorgeous boy on top of him, completely occupying Dean's mind – he's almost dizzy with lust. 

 

But then Cas pulls away, gasping a little. His hand disappears from Dean's dick and the next thing he hears is Castiel popping open the lid of the bottle of lube. It's sparking excitement off inside of Dean. He watches the blue-eyed boy with anticipation, biting his lip as Cas squirts some of the lube onto his fingers. Castiel locks eyes with him again, settling between his legs that Dean parts willingly – happily. 

 

“You've done this before, right?” Cas asks, a faint blush starting to creep up his neck.

 

Dean huffs a laugh, nodding. “Yeah, that's right. You don't have to be afraid of hurting me.”

 

Cas rolls his eyes, but he presses a soft kiss to Dean's inner thigh and mumbles an  _ okay. _ He blankets himself over Dean again, pressing their lips back together, and Dean feels Cas' hand slipping between his legs. When Castiel presses the first finger inside of him, Dean moans against Cas' lips. 

 

The blue-eyed boy takes his time, slowly thrusting his fingers in and out and chuckling roughly, when Dean wriggles his hips impatiently. But he adds another finger, and Dean practically welcomes the burn he feels, when the two fingers slip past his rim with each thrust. He hasn't done this in a while, but dear god, why does it feel so much better, when Castiel is the one doing it? Maybe  _ because _ it's Castiel doing this. “Oh fuck,” he mutters, when he's loose enough for Cas to add a third finger.

 

“You're okay?” Cas murmurs, keeping his fingers still. 

 

Dean nods animatedly. “Yes, I'm okay.” He catches Cas' lips with his own again, moving his hips and pressing down on Castiel's fingers, who gets the hint and starts moving them again. It burns a little more with three fingers inside of him, but soon he forgets about that when Cas hits the bundle of nerves inside him and familiar pleasure causes Dean's back to arch off the mattress. 

 

Castiel tangles his other hand in Dean's hair, gently tugging at the strands and looking down at him fascinated – as if he couldn't believe that this is actually happening. Fucking hell, can Dean believe it? He can't think straight anymore – not that he's ever been able to think completely straight, but still – now, he just wants Cas to be inside of him. 

 

The blue-eyed boy pulls his fingers out of him, and Dean whines a little at the sudden loss, his hole already flexing with the need to be filled again, and namely with something bigger than just Cas' fingers. 

 

“Shh, relax,” Cas mumbles, reaching over and tearing open the box of condoms, getting one out.

 

“I am relaxed. I'd just like you to hurry up a little,” Dean replies, still panting. God, he sounds downright  _ needy. _

 

He sees Cas swallowing hard, biting his lip and tearing the condom open, rolling it on his dick in one swift movement. Castiel grabs the lube and squirts some more onto his fingers, taking his dick in hand and stroking it a few times, coating it with lube. Dean's heart is hammering frantically in his chest that's heaving and lowering with every breath he takes. By now, his mind is almost completely blank – the only thing he is able to think about is this gorgeous blue-eyed boy in front of him, who actually wants to do this with him. 

 

They lock eyes, and Cas scoots closer, settling between Dean's legs again. He rests one of his elbows next to Dean, so that his hand can caress Dean's cheek; his other hand is gripping Dean's hip. Dean has parted his legs as well as his lips, grabbing the back of Cas' head with one and Cas' ass with his other hand. And as Castiel's tongue is sliding into him, so is his cock. 

 

Castiel goes slow, pressing in ever so slightly. Dean feels the stretch and it burns, but it's bearable and he knows that soon the pleasure is going to gain the upper hand again.

 

“You're doing okay?” Cas whispers, lips brushing against Dean's. He nods, gulping a bit, because Castiel's cock is so much bigger than his fingers, and this whole situation also seems a little unreal. They are actually doing this. He tightens his grip on Cas' ass, hooking one of his legs over the back of Cas' thigh, pulling him in more. Castiel gasps, and then he's fully seated inside of Dean.

 

And that's how Dean is feeling right now –  _ full. _ He lets out a shaky breath, shuddering a bit and swallowing with a click. Cas pauses and doesn't move. For a moment, Dean is afraid of Cas having an anxiety attack again. “Hey, what about you? Are you doing alright?” he asks a little rushed. 

 

Cas blinks down at him.  _ “Uh-huh,” _ is all that comes out of his mouth at first. Then, “You feel so fucking good.”

 

Dean lets out a small chuckle. “You too,” he breathes, lifting his head and kissing the blue-eyed boy again. Castiel really does feel good, he feels amazing inside of Dean – hot, thick and absolutely perfect. “God, please. Fuck, Cas. Can you move?” he practically begs, the words coming out on the edge of an exhale, after a few moments of just kissing.

 

Castiel presses one last soft kiss to his lips before pulling out of Dean until only the head of his penis is still inside of him. Then he pushes forward again, causing them both to groan, and Dean wonders if the blue-eyed boy sees stars as well. 

 

During the next few minutes, Cas sets up a steady pace. Dean's own cock is trapped between their stomachs, and there's just the right amount of friction on it as Castiel thrusts in and out of him. Dean moans into Castiel's mouth, clinging to Cas' ass and his shoulder with his hands. Their kisses are getting sloppier, both of them only participating a bit half-assed, since they're both pretty distracted by the sensations that are happening inside of them. 

 

“More,” Dean groans at some point. 

 

Cas doesn't answer him, just picks up the pace and snaps his hips forward. “Fuck, Dean,” he grunts, moving his hand that was holding on to his hip to the back of Dean's thigh, pulling him impossibly closer. He's thrusting into Dean at a different angle now, and then he's hitting Dean's prostate – causing Dean's vision to go black for a second or two. 

 

His reaction doesn't escape Castiel's notice, who's aiming for that spot again and again, reducing Dean to a moaning mess beneath him. But Dean doesn't care. He doesn't care that he's fucking loud right now – after all, Cas is groaning as well, and the feeling of Castiel's hard dick inside of him is just too awesome. Waves of pleasure are rolling through him. A tingle runs up his spine and his skin is prickling. He feels totally dizzy with lust at the moment, and he knows that he won't last much longer. Slowly but surely, his orgasm is building up deep within him, a familiar feeling in his lower abdomen. His legs are shaking and he digs his fingertips into Cas' shoulders, panting and gasping and just trying to get enough air into his lungs. 

 

He knows Cas is close as well, noting it in the way Cas is moaning and swiveling his hips, his thrusts growing erratic, and in the way he's burying his face in the crook of Dean's neck now, sucking on the skin there, hard enough to leave a mark – and Dean hopes he does, though he isn't able to give much thought to this right now.

 

Cas is slamming into Dean now, skin slapping against skin, and Dean would think that the noises they're making were kind of obscene, if they weren't so goddamned  _ hot _ and made it even more  _ real _ that this is actually happening. 

 

It only takes a couple more thrusts and then Dean is coming, crying out his release and his cum splashing between them – never before has he come this hard, and for a moment he forgets how to breathe. When he remembers, he quickly sucks in a breathe, still holding on to Cas' shoulder, whose whole body grows stiff a few thrusts later when he's coming, too. Dean feels Castiel's dick twitching inside of him as he groans Dean's name. Working themselves through their climax, Cas keeps thrusting into Dean's ass slowly, and Dean tries to meet Cas' thrusts with his hips. They're both panting heavily, and Dean feels Castiel's cock softening inside of him. 

 

Slowly and carefully, Cas pulls out of him, and they both groan. Dean feels strangely empty, still trying to catch his breath, when Castiel pulls the condom off his dick, tying it off and tossing it into the trashcan. Dean grimaces at the feeling of his own cum on his stomach and chest. Cas lets himself fall on his back next to him, and they lay in comfortable but breathless silence for a few minutes. 

 

And all of a sudden, Castiel starts laughing. Dean turns his head to him, looking at him in amazement. Cas returns his look, and the ocean is oddly dark as if it was at night, but a million stars are reflected in the water. 

 

“Fuck,” Cas breathes, and now Dean is laughing as well. “That was incredible,” he manages to say through his laughter.

 

Castiel nods. “Yes,” he agrees, out of breath from what they just did but also from all the laughing.

 

When they somewhat calmed down again, Dean nudges Cas. “We should get cleaned up,” he says, looking from the cum on his own upper body to his cum on Castiel's torso. The blue-eyed boy nods, slowly getting up and holding a hand out for Dean to take.

 

They walk into the bathroom, and Dean runs his fingers through his completely messed up hair – his ass is pleasantly sore and he grins at that thought. He lets his eyes wander over Cas' naked body, when they're standing in front of the sink and Cas grabs a washcloth. Castiel is simply absolutely gorgeous, and once again Dean starts to wonder if he will ever get over that. But he just can't imagine that he will ever get used to it. He could stare at this boy for hours, and never get enough of him. 

 

He smiles at Cas, chuckling a bit at the sight of his dark hair – Castiel already has natural sex hair, but right now it's even messier than usual, strands sticking out at odd angles. He bites his lip, seeing the blush on Cas' cheeks that's probably caused by the way he's looking at him. Though, Cas doesn't say something and just wipes the cum gently of their bodies. When he looks back up at Dean, his blue eyes rest on Dean's neck. 

 

“What?” Dean asks, and Cas chuckles a bit sheepishly. “I'm sorry. I couldn't resist, I guess.” He touches the side of Dean's neck with soft fingers.

 

Dean wrinkles his brow, looking in the mirror and seeing the hickey on his neck. “I don't mind,” he says quietly after a few moments, not telling Cas that he loves it, because it marks him as  _ his. _ But fucking hell, he so belongs to the blue-eyed boy. 

 

Castiel presses a kiss to the hickey, taking Dean's hand and pulling him back into his bedroom. They lie back down on the bed, Cas on his back and Dean tugged up beside him, his hand on Cas' chest. Absentmindedly, he touches Cas' collarbone with his thumb. 

 

“What are you thinking about?” Castiel asks quietly, raking his hand through Dean's still messed up hair. Dean enjoys Cas' gentle touch, at first only humming in response to the question. “You,” he mumbles after a few seconds, pressing a gentle kiss to Cas' chest.

 

Castiel's chest shakes a little when he chuckles, and Dean can hear the low rumble deep inside of the blue-eyed boy. “You know, we can't always answer this question like that.”

 

“Why not? You're always on my mind, one way or another, so it counts.”

 

“Anything specific?” Cas asks, instead of elaborating on Dean's remark.

 

“Hm, just thought about the day when we first met,” Dean says slowly. “I know we already talked about this, but I like to look back. I mean, look how far we've come.”

 

Cas fingers stop moving for a moment, and Dean jerks his head a little, coaxing another chuckle out of the blue-eyed boy, and he starts to run his fingers through Dean's hair again. “We've come pretty far,” he agrees.

 

Dean lifts his head, so he can look at Castiel's face, chin resting on Cas' chest. He quirks up one corner of his mouth, giving Cas a crooked smile. “I was so fascinated by you from the very first moment I laid eyes on you,” he says. “When I look back now, I think I already knew it deep down inside of me. I just didn't want to admit it.”

 

“You know what?” Cas wonders, blue eyes shining brightly.

 

“That we belong to each other,” Dean answers. “In one way or another,” he adds, and his smile widens.

 

Cas rolls his eyes, but he's returning his smile. “We do. We do belong to each other.”

 

Dean presses another kiss to Cas' chest, and after a while the blue-eyed boy turns off the bedside lamp, leaving them lying in the dark. Dean lets out a sigh, cuddling a little bit closer to Castiel and closing his eyes. It was a long, but fantastic day. Though, he is tired now.

 

Another smile sneaks onto his lips at the thought of being able to sleep with Castiel in the same bed again.  _ God, Lucifer would kill me, if he knew, _ he thinks, but he doesn't even really care. Dean doesn't regret anything.

 

“Are you already asleep?” Cas asks in a hushed tone after at least ten minutes of silence. Dean honestly thought Cas was already asleep.

 

“No, not yet,” he answers just as quiet. “Why?”

 

“I... I have a question,” Cas says, clearly hesitating to speak. 

 

“Cas, you can ask me anything,” Dean says softly, wondering what's on Castiel's mind.

 

“You actually liked it, right?”

 

“Are you kidding me?” Dean says in disbelief. “I absolutely loved it.”

 

“Me too,” Cas whispers. 

 

And Dean doesn't ask any further questions. He doesn't ask Cas if he's okay – because he doesn't have to. Right now, Dean just knows that Castiel is okay. They are both okay. 

 

As content and happy as he hasn't felt for a while, he falls asleep just a few minutes later. And he's still feeling that way, when he wakes up the next morning. Though at first, when he slowly blinks his eyes open, he doesn't know why there's such a warm feeling fluttering against the walls of his stomach, but then he remembers the  _ events _ of the last day and night – and he starts to smile immediately.

 

Castiel is laying in his arms, and Dean tightens his grip around the blue-eyed boy automatically, burying his face in Cas' neck, pressing his lips to the soft skin. It's actually such a shame that he didn't give Cas a hickey –  _ the next time, _ he thinks and his smile widens. Then, he remembers what Cas said regarding the hickey on his neck –  _ I couldn't resist, I guess – _ and Dean's smile widens even more. 

 

“Morning,” a rough and sleepy sounding voice mumbles.

 

“Morning,” Dean whispers back. “Did you sleep well?”

 

“Very well.”

 

“Me too,” Dean replies, fondly rubbing his hand up and down Castiel's side. 

 

Cas reaches behind him with one hand under the blanket, putting it on Dean's thigh and caressing the naked skin. Dean shudders slightly at that touch, humming appreciatively. “I could get used to this.”

 

“To what?” Castiel asks, turning his body and resting his head on his hand, elbow pressing into the mattress. He's looking at Dean, still a bit sleepy-eyed, but there's also an expression of curiosity on his face.

 

“To waking up next to you – naked, I mean,” Dean says with a sly grin.

 

Castiel's cheeks redden ever so slightly, and he rolls his eyes at him. “You're impossible,” he grumbles, but pecks him on the lips once.

 

Dean kisses him back, making the kiss last for a few moments. He tightens his grip around the blue-eyed boy again, pulling him closer. “Okay. Correction.”

 

“What do you mean by that?” Cas asks, letting his eyes fall closed at the kisses that Dean presses to the side of his neck and to his shoulder.

 

Dean smiles against Castiel's skin. “I  _ am _ used to it.”

 

He knows Cas doesn't want to, but he starts laughing nevertheless, increasing the warmth inside of Dean at least tenfold. 

 

Yes. For now, they are okay.

 


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a shorter chapter again, but I hope you'll like it nevertheless :) and thank you so much to everyone reading this! 
> 
> Have a nice day / week <3
> 
> ~ KC

Since Thanksgiving was so different than all the years before, Dean is expecting Christmas to be different as well – especially because it  _ is _ already different. Or at least, the holiday season is starting differently than it ever has since his mom died.

 

They are in Missouri's shop, helping her to decorate it for Christmas. Dean has the feeling that Missouri owns hundreds of boxes filled with Christmas decoration, because they're here for quite a while already. He has never been one, who gets enthusiastic about this kind of stuff. And since his family moved around a lot, he hates uncrating things and finding new places for them to put. Charlie is probably the only one right now, who's doing this with gusto – even Missouri seems a little annoyed as she puts another stack of plates with different Santa Clauses on them on a shelf. 

 

Dean attaches the last string of lights, finishing to dress the shop window. Cas puts his hands on his waist from behind, looking over his shoulder at the shop window and their done work. Dean smiles softly, when the blue-eyed boy puts his chin on his shoulder. They both look up, when they hear Charlie guffawing. The reason why is Benny, who she decorated with one of the many strings of lights that were in the boxes with Missouri's Christmas decoration. Benny is scowling at her, staring at the string of lights Charlie wound around his body. Dean and Castiel look at Charlie's face, at Benny's face and then at each other, exploding with laughter as well.

 

“Funny,” Benny says, grimacing. “Very funny, guys.”

 

Charlie fishes her phone out of the back pocket of her jeans, quickly taking a few pictures of Benny before he has a chance to react. He gives her a strained smile. “Really?” he asks.

 

“These are perfect for the Christmas cards we're going to send this year,” she giggles.

 

“No way!” Benny says hastily. “That's so not going to happen.”

 

“What's not going to happen?” Missouri's voice sounds from the back of the shop and then she turns up from behind a shelf with Sam and Gabriel in tow. A grin spreads across Sam's face at the sight of Benny and Gabriel starts to giggle right away, but Missouri sighs. “Why can't I leave you alone for a minute without something like this happening?” she asks, shaking her head.

 

Charlie can't stop snickering. “I'm sorry,” she whispers, leaning against Benny. “But you simply look delightful.”

 

Benny lets out a chuckle, and then they all have to help him get rid of the string of lights, because Charlie knotted it tightly together. Finally, Benny is able to throw it into one of the boxes, shaking his head at Charlie. But there's a small smile gracing his lips and he doesn't seem like he's mad at her. And honestly – who could be mad at Charlie, when she's still giggling quietly, red locks dancing around her face and absolutely looking adorable?

 

They stay for a late lunch. Missouri brought home-baked onion bread and butter. She and Sam are sitting on the chairs behind the counter; Gabriel, Benny and Charlie are leaning against a shelf, and also against each other; and Dean and Castiel are leaning against the counter, completely invading each other's personal space, but that's more than alright.  _ Dean _ is more than alright again. He's still content, what still might have something to do with the fact that Cas and he had sex two days ago. He looks at the blue-eyed boy, wondering when he'll be able to tell him that he loves him. 

 

Dean keeps telling himself  _ soon _ – he's going to tell Castiel that he loves him soon. Though by now, he has the feeling that he will just blare those three words out at some point, because they're always there, on the tip of his tongue. But he doesn't want to scare Castiel away, he doesn't want him to have an anxiety attack again. Of course, he knows that they had sex and Cas didn't freak out, he  _ didn't _ have an anxiety attack again, he was able to enjoy it – they both enjoyed it. It was absolutely amazing and Dean loved it and he wants to do it again, if Castiel is able to. He has to talk to him about this yet. 

 

But telling Castiel that  _ he loves him _ is something else entirely. He knows that being physically close is already difficult for Cas and demands a great deal of him, and Dean also knows the reasons why. But being  _ emotionally _ close is even asking so much more of Cas – of the both of them. Dean has no problem with physical contact, and it's just awesome to be close to Castiel and to be able to touch him. But  _ feelings _ are a bitch. And he feels so fucking much for the blue-eyed boy. He's already trying to tell Cas about it. He told Cas that he's everything to him. He told Cas that he's art. He tries to fit the words  _ I love you _ into other words' meanings, tries to tell Cas  _ I love you _ in every other way than to just say these three words out loud. 

 

Charlie tells a  _ Star Wars _ related joke and everybody laughs. Dean stares at Castiel, watching his lips and the twinkle in his eyes while he's laughing. They're okay at the moment, and that is what matters to him. There's only one thing that could dampen his mood and that's Alastair. But they haven't heard anything from him again, and Dean hopes that the creep is as far away as possible.

 

And all of a sudden, Missouri's phone starts to ring. She sighs, getting up and disappearing into her office to answer the call.

 

“Who's calling now?” Sam wonders with furrowed brow – on Saturdays Missouri's shop is only open from 8 to 12 o'clock, and it's afternoon. Normally, Missouri wouldn't be here and no one could get her on the phone of the shop. 

 

Missouri comes out of her office just a few moments later with a scowl plastered across her face and the telephone still in her hand. To everyone's surprise, she holds the telephone out to Dean. He looks at her questioningly, but takes it and goes away from the others, disappearing behind a shelf. Wrinkling his brow, he presses the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

 

“Hey, Dean,” a familiar voice says – cold, nasal and eerie, instantly sending unpleasant chills up his spine. 

 

“Alastair,” Dean says through gritted teeth. In a matter of seconds, his anger is back, making his blood boil and prickling under his skin.

 

“How are you? How's the other faggot?” Al asks almost boredly. 

 

Dean turns around, but a shelf is blocking his view from the others. He doesn't know if they can hear what he says.

 

“Has the cat got your tongue?” Alastair asks slyly, when Dean doesn't answer him. He chuckles nastily. 

 

“What the fuck do you want?” Dean asks, clenching his fist so tightly that his fingernails dig into his skin.

 

“I don't like your tone,” Alastair says lowly. 

 

“I don't fucking care,” Dean hisses. “Stop  _ stalking _ us.”

 

“Oh, Dean,” Al says, managing to sound dangerously and gleefully at the same time. “You don't get it. I'm only starting.” As soon as he finished the sentence, he ends the phone call. 

 

For a few moments, Dean keeps pressing the phone to his ear, staring into space. There's a hollow ringing in his ears, and he clenches his jaw. 

 

“Dean?”

 

He jerks his head around, seeing Castiel standing a few meters away from him, staring at him with worry in his blue eyes. Dean tries to shake off the dark feelings Alastair evoked, but to no avail. 

 

“That was him, right? Alastair?” Cas says, his voice sounding oddly pressed. “What did he say?”

 

Dean swallows, shaking his head. He realizes he's still holding the phone almost frantically, and definitely too tightly. He relinquishes his grip on it, walking over to Castiel. 

 

“Talk to me,” Cas says quietly.

 

“Yes, it was Alastair,” Dean says. He doesn't know why he's still shaking his head. He's pissed off. He's fucking angry – even his voice is shaking with rage. And there are a lot of questions in his mind, far too many questions, but also quite a few insults for Alastair. 

 

“What did he say?” Cas asks again. 

 

Dean takes his hand and they go back to the others, who are already waiting for them impatiently. He sighs, looking at their friends and his little brother. In concise sentences, Dean describes what Alastair just said to him over the phone. With every word, the worries in Castiel's eyes deepen even more. Charlie covered her mouth with her hand, and there are frowns on Benny's and Gabriel's faces. Sam looks at him with wide eyes. Missouri furrowed her brow and presses her lips together, making her mouth appear like a narrow line. 

 

When Dean stops talking, there's only a heavy silence at first. After four or five minutes, Gabriel is the first to say something. “The phone number of Missouri's shop is accessible. It's listed in the phone book. So, the question we should be asking is why did he call now?”

 

“What do you mean?” Cas asks.

 

“He knew that we're here. That I'm here,” Dean says bitterly, a new wave of anger rushing through his veins. 

 

“That means he watches you? Us?” Charlie says, looking at everyone in disbelief. “Okay, we knew that he's sick and a freak, but what is the point of  _ this?” _

 

Nobody is able to answer that question, and it only causes the following silence to be even heavier than the last. Dean locks eyes with Castiel, seeing the sea waves chasing each other hurriedly. He sighs. Can it get any worse?

 

Apparently, yes.

 

During the next days, Dean learns that they have to take Alastair's threat –  _ I'm only starting _ – very seriously. His anger got re-ignited with that first call from Al, and it only intensifies with every new call. He gets a few phone calls from Alastair  _ daily, _ and he's the only one. Al doesn't call anybody else, just him. But he doesn't only insult and threaten Dean. Al also mentions Castiel, Sam and even their friends. Dean feels sick to his stomach at just the thought of it. 

 

He's constantly worried about  _ everyone _ now. Again, he barely sleeps. Sam and he are staying at Missouri's house at the moment, because Dean wants to keep his eyes glued to his little brother, in order to protect him. Somehow, they just thought that they'd be relatively safe at Missouri's place, because after all it's  _ Missouri's place. _ But Alastair's calls are following him there, nevertheless – he calls Missouri's landline, and no one knows how he got his hands on her landline number, since it's not listed in the phone book. 

 

To make matters worse – even though Dean thought that wouldn't be possible –, Al starts to call him at his workplace. Of course, Dean's boss is not overly excited about it, especially because Alastair is rude to him. Dean has to apologize and yet again, he tells Alastair to fuck off. But the freak doesn't stop. And Dean finds it hard to ignore Al's words that are haunting him.

 

_ Is the fag there? I'd love to talk to him. … What about your little brother? Sammy, right? He's still in high school, isn't he? So sweet, so innocent – maybe I should have a little talk with him as well, don't you think? … By the way, how are your friends, Dean? Are they alright? It strikes me that I saw the redhead and her girlfriend the other day. Would you be so kind and give them regards from me? _

 

With every word from Alastair, Dean feels his anger in every fiber of his being, it's pulsating right through him. But he isn't the only one, who's angry. Literally everyone is downright furious and really worried. They are all well aware that this isn't a joke. This is a more than serious matter. And it's  _ scary. _ It's scary to think that Alastair is thinking about them this much, that he's watching them, that he's actually  _ stalking _ them, and that he's just spending so much time on this. Everyone already knew that Alastair is a freak, a fucking psychopath, but this is something different again. They are all affected by it. And now, everyone agrees on talking to the police, since it doesn't seem like Alastair is going to stop bothering them any time soon. 

 

On December 4 th , Dean and Sam drive to Missouri's shop. Cas has an early shift there, but they actually came because Missouri is going to accompany them to the police station. They are too early, but Dean wanted to see Castiel before they talk to the police. Sam says hi to Cas, though then he goes into Missouri's office right away, and Dean leans against a shelf, watching the blue-eyed boy sorting some books. 

 

Cas gives him a small smile. “It's the right thing to do – to talk to the police, I mean,” he says quietly.

 

Dean nods. “I know. It's just... I've never done this,” he admits just as quietly.

 

Castiel looks at him with furrowed brow. “What do you mean by that?”

 

“I've never went to the police. Usually, it's the other way around, you know?” 

 

“That's the reason why Missouri is there,” Castiel reminds him. “She's going to help you. And you're sure I don't need to come with you?”

 

Dean nods again. “Yeah, I'm sure. You don't have to.”

 

“But I would have accompanied you as well.”

 

“I know that,” Dean says, returning Cas' smile and stepping closer. He puts his hand on Cas' cheek, caressing it with his thumb. Castiel covers his hand with his own, leaning forwards and kissing him gently. The reason why Dean doesn't want Castiel to come with them is that he's worried the police won't take them seriously. Castiel's rapists never had to go to jail – he doesn't want Cas to remember how the police failed him once before.

 

“But you call me right after, okay? And tell me how it went?” Cas asks.

 

“Of course,” Dean replies, kissing the blue-eyed boy back. “I'll call you.”

 

“Good. Hey, if she's there, you should really talk to Jody Mills. She will definitely listen to you.”

 

“Okay,” Dean says, wanting to kiss Cas again.

 

“Dean?” Sam calls out. Dean sighs, taking Castiel's hand, and they go to the back of the shop. The door of Missouri's office is open and Sam leans against the door frame, seeming a little nervous. Missouri appears behind him, her purse dangling from her arm. “You're ready?” she asks Dean. 

 

He swallows, suddenly feeling a bit nervous as well, but he nods. “Yeah, we can drive.”

 

They say goodbye to Cas, Dean kisses him on the cheek, and then they get into the Impala. They have to drive to the next town, since the police station is there. Missouri and Sam talk during the drive, about school and his latest tests, but Dean just listens, watching the snowflakes the windshield wiper wipes away. 

 

He remembers Cas saying that he should talk to Jody, when they enter the building, but apparently she isn't there. A little disappointed, they make do with an uneven duo – a young police officer who could only be a couple of years older than Dean, and his older partner who's probably in his forties. Dean sits down on one of three chairs in front of a desk and Missouri and Sam sit down next to him, while the policemen sit down behind the desk. 

 

Missouri starts to talk and says that they'd like to report something. The younger officer takes notes while Dean – with a little bit of help from Sam – explains the situation with Alastair. Since he doesn't have exactly positive experiences with the police, he doesn't really know what to expect. But luckily, they take them very seriously. The older man's face darkens more and more as Dean speaks – Alastair is well reputed here. They tell them that they're already hunting for Al, because of a number of delicts (theft, bodily injury, defamation, harassment...). Now, they have to add another one to their list. 

 

Dean has to fill in a form and leave his phone number. As a precaution, Missouri leaves her phone numbers as well, so they're always on call. The officers say they will let them know as soon as they found Alastair. For now, they should ignore the phone calls and don't provide Alastair with a target. 

 

When they leave the police station, Dean's anger is still there. He knows that they have done something about Al now, even though it might not be a lot. At least, the policemen took them seriously and didn't just shrug it off. They are hunting for Alastair – that's a start. They  _ are _ doing something against this fucking psychopath. Maybe he does feel a little bit better at the moment. 

 

But he knows what will definitely make him feel better – seeing Castiel. He told the blue-eyed boy that he'd call him and tell him how talking to the police went, but he'd rather want to talk to him in person and see his face. So, Dean drives Missouri and Sam to Missouri's house, and afterwards he drives over to Cas. Lucifer's car isn't parked in front of the Novak's house, so he's probably still at work.

 

Cas opens the front door and seems a bit surprised to see him. “I thought you wanted to call me,” he says, when Dean enters the house and takes off his jacket. 

 

He shrugs his shoulders, a crooked smile playing on his lips. “I changed my mind.”

 

They go into the kitchen, sitting down at the table, and Dean tells Cas everything the policemen said. Cas holds his hand, intertwining their fingers and listening tentatively to him. When he stops talking, Cas smiles gently at him. 

 

“Well, that's something,” the blue-eyed boy says. “Right? They're doing something against Alastair and taking it seriously.”

 

Dean nods slowly, flashing Cas a tired smile. “Yeah, right. I just hope that they're going to find him soon. I want this to be over.”

 

“Me too,” Castiel says quietly, pressing a kiss to Dean's hand. “Come on, since that's cleared, let's talk about something else.”

 

Dean looks in Cas' eyes and his smile widens – there's indeed something else he wants to talk with the blue-eyed boy about. He bites his lip, briefly looking down at their interlaced fingers before scooting closer to Castiel with his chair. Cas raises his eyebrows at him, returning his look questioningly. 

 

“I actually wanted to talk with you about something,” Dean starts, and he can't help but starting to grin. 

 

“And about what?” Cas asks.

 

“I want to sleep with you again.” Dean decides it's best when he just says it, instead of beating around the bush. After all, they need to be open with each other like this. “I mean, I'd like to do it again. Of course, only if you want to as well,” he adds.

 

Castiel cocks his head to the side, but a grin sneaks onto his lips as well. He nods. “Yeah, I'd like that too.”

 

“Yeah?” Dean says.

 

Cas nods again, maybe a little sheepishly. Dean gives his hand a squeeze. “It was actually okay for you, right?”

 

The blue-eyed boy leans forward and kisses him. “More than okay. I was completely fine,” he mumbles against Dean's lips.

 

Dean kisses Cas back, but wrinkles his brow. He has the feeling there's a  _ but, _ and voices it. 

 

“It's not a but.” Castiel shakes his head, though he presses his lips together. “It just requires a lot of negotiation for me to do something like that.”

 

“You know that we won't ever do something you don't want to do,” Dean says. “Something you're not ready for. We can wait for a while.”

 

“Just a few days,” Cas says, voice dripping with gratefulness. “If that's okay. But I really want to do it again.”

 

“It is okay. It's important that we're both comfortable. You just tell me, if you're ready.”

 

“Okay,” Cas says, starting to smile again. 

 

Dean would do everything to see this smile just again and again. Having sex with Castiel was absolutely amazing and literally perfect – it felt good, Cas didn't have an anxiety attack, they were both comfortable with each other, and they both enjoyed it. What more could he want? And hell, if he has to wait for that feeling a few days, he will wait willingly. Cas is worth every wait. 

 

But then, something happens and it is able to push thinking about Cas, about sleeping with him again, and even thinking and worrying about Alastair to the back of his mind. In hindsight, Dean thinks he should have known it, he should have expected it. Although worrying about Alastair and what he's going to do next, worrying about Sam, Cas and his friends, thinking about Castiel – this all just took up a lot of space in his head and didn't leave any space or time to think or to worry about John.

 

Maybe he should have wasted much more thought on his father – where he's constantly going, what he's doing, what he's planning. Maybe then, he wouldn't have been taken by surprise, when he sees John the next time.

 

On the next Saturday, Dean drives home to their house, because Sam needs a few books and they both need some fresh clothes again. Since it's midmorning, he didn't think he had to face John, but his dad is actually there, sitting at the kitchen table. But what's really astounding him is the fact that John seems to be  _ sober. _ Confused and surprised, Dean is standing in the doorway. He blinks at John, who's just staring back at him for a moment.

 

“Hey, Dean,” he says after clearing his throat. 

 

Dean wonders if his father remembers their last encounter as well as he does – the lump beneath Dean's eye took almost a week to go away. “Hi,” he replies, his voice sounding weirdly pressed. 

 

“How are you?” John asks, almost cautiously, causing Dean to furrow his brow. 

 

He shrugs his shoulders. “I'm okay,” he answers brusquely. Of course that's not the truth, but why should he  _ bother _ John with his problems? He probably wouldn't really care anyway.

 

“Where's Sam?” 

 

“Meeting with a friend,” Dean says, wondering if he could just go upstairs, grab their stuff and leave, without making John angry again. 

 

“I had hoped that you would stop by,” John says all of a sudden. He even gets up and leans against the counter, crossing his arms in front of his chest, never stopping to look at him.

 

Dean looks at his dad warily. “Why?” 

 

“I have to tell you something,” John starts. “I have a new job,” he says before Dean is able to say a word. 

 

“You have a new job?” he asks in disbelief after a minute of silence. That had been the last thing he expected John to say. His brain needs some time to comprehend the words he just heard. And then there's fear, quickly spreading itself out in his head, leaving room for only one question. “Where?”

 

“Ohio,” John answers. “I already found an apartment, where we can live. It's not big, but this house isn't either, and the apartment is in a better condition.”

 

“What?” Dean asks, huffing a breath and shaking his head slightly.

 

John seems confused by Dean's confusion. “What do you mean  _ what?” _

 

“Are you saying we're going to move?” Dean asks slowly, trying to understand what's happening right now.

 

“Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying. If things go well, we'll move before the beginning of the new year.” 

 

Dean swallows, still shaking his head. “No,” he says, furrowing his brow. 

 

“No?” John asks. 

 

“We can't move. You can't come here after  _ months _ of doing whatever it was you were doing, and just announce that you have a new job all of a sudden and that we're going to move once again.” 

 

John squints at him – and it's the kind of squinting, when he disagrees with something Dean said or with the way he said it. “We are going to move, Dean. We should have moved months ago.”

 

“But we didn't. And it's fine. Sam has friends here and he goes to school here. I have friends here. I have a job here. This moving around has to stop, dad. There's no reason why we should leave this place. You can get a new job here as well,” he says, trying to budge John. 

 

But his father shakes his head frantically. “No, it's not fine. We can't stay here.”

 

“Why not?” Dean almost yells. Moving away is definitely the last thing he wants to do right now. And it's also definitely the last thing he wants to worry about right now. He can't believe that this is actually happening now, that John is serious about this. “Dad, why can't we stay here? Why do we always have to move around?” He always wanted to ask this question, always wanted to know the reason why, but he never dared to actually ask this. He was too scared of how John would react.

 

John grits his teeth at the question. “Because we would commit treason, if we stayed.”

 

Now, Dean is completely baffled.  _ Commit treason? _ “Dad, what are you talking about?”

 

John presses his eyebrows together, shaking his head. “It's decided. We are going to move. As soon as possible.” He speaks oddly brokenly, pausing after every sentence for a few seconds. “We're going to start packing the next days.”

 

Downright desperately, Dean tries to think of a way to save the situation, but his head is empty. John's words are echoing inside of him, and he tries to understand  _ why _ this is happening. But he can't think of a reason. He can't think about anything. And John doesn't look at him anymore. He just walks past him, down the hall and to his bedroom door. He already has his hand on the doorknob, when he does turn around to Dean again.

 

“We are going to move again. Would you tell Sam? There's still a lot to be done.”

 

Dean returns John's look, but he doesn't react to his father's words. He just stands there, staring at John, mouth slightly agape. But he has absolutely no idea what he could say – what could change John's mind. 

 

His dad just nods once, opening the door and disappearing into his bedroom – as is often the case –, leaving Dean standing in the hallway and not caring about the new burden he just put on his son's shoulders.

 


	28. Chapter 28

Monday morning, Dean's head is still spinning. He's at work, but he has to start concentrating on what he's doing again and again. Every time the phone is ringing, he thinks that it's Alastair, but Al doesn't call him at his workplace today. Dean wonders what's the reason for that, though he's sure that no one but Alastair is able to understand his crazy thoughts and actions. So, there's no point in trying to understand this psychopath – but Dean would still like to be able to relate to why this is happening. He hates it so fucking much.

 

And John is making the situation even worse. _It's not like they already had enough on their plates,_ Dean thinks angrily. But now they also have to worry about this. Everyone is angry and also sad because of John's decision – though, no one is suffering as much as Sam.

 

Dean grits his teeth at that thought. Only yesterday, Sam and he had a fight. He does know that Sammy is not actually mad at him, but still... it just sucks. They yelled at each other, and Dean tried to calm Sam down, but nothing he said comforted Sam in any way. And that Dean isn't really good at this – comforting other people –, especially when his mind is clouded by his own anger and sadness, didn't make it any better.

 

Though, he is able to understand his little brother, and Dean also knows that Sam is right. Dean is of legal age, and Sam isn't. Dean doesn't have to move away together with John, but Sam has to if John says so. Dean tried to tell Sam that he won't ever leave him alone, but Sam was so devastated by the news that he didn't really listen to him. Not being able to make his brother feel better caused Dean to feel even more down.

 

Right after John told him about his new job and that they're going to move away again, he drove to Missouri's house, where Castiel watched Sam and Gabriel playing chess. Cas answered the door, when Dean rang the bell. “He's losing big-time,” he whispered to Dean, regarding Gabriel.

 

Gabe heard him, shooting him a dirty look and flipping him off. Sam was laughing and he seemed genuinely relaxed and content, and Dean already knew that he had to ruin that. Cas was the first to notice that something's wrong, bringing Dean's worries and anger to Sam and Gabriel's attention. Of course, then he had to tell them what happened and to ruin their good mood.

 

Sam disappeared into Missouri's guestroom after their little fight. Dean ran his fingers through his hair, slumping down on the couch. Cas rubbed his back soothingly, but he didn't know what to say to this either. Gabriel sighed, being at a loss for words as well. Missouri came home from work around lunchtime and Dean had to repeat what John had told him.

 

He thinks it was Castiel, who also told their other friends about it, because yesterday Charlie, Benny, Dorothy and Meg showed up at Missouri's house and talked to them about it. At first, Dean was a little bit confused, but then he remembered that friends do this kind of stuff – being there for each other and giving the other's a helping hand, when there's a problem. It's just that Dean's life seems to consist of problems.

 

Later that evening, when their friends had left and Sam was already asleep, he told Missouri about this feeling. She smiled warmly at him, nodding understandingly. “Everyone feels like this from time to time. It does happen that in one period of your life there are a lot of problems, maybe even too many, so of course you get the feeling that there are _only_ problems in your life. But that's just an illusion, Dean. Your life doesn't revolve around your problems – it revolves around finding solutions of your problems, together with the people who love you.”

 

Dean nodded slowly, returning her look. “I know there are good things in my life, but sometimes it just feels like the bad things... overshadow them.”

 

“I know it's hard to focus on the good things, when there's a lot of bad stuff happening. But please always remember – _the presence of darkness doesn't mean the absence of light._ On some days, you have to look a little harder to see the light, but it's always there.”

 

Talking to Missouri really helped Dean and after their conversation he was able to sleep relatively well. Though, now he keeps thinking about her words. Nevertheless – he means, no matter how shitty he's feeling –, he does know where to find the light. It's trapped in ocean blue eyes, so Dean knows where he has to turn to, when he feels like the darkness is swallowing him whole. But it's still difficult.

 

When his shift is finally over, he takes a deep breath and gets in the Impala. He has a look at his face in the rear-view mirror, noting the bags under his eyes and his unusually pale skin, and lets out a deep sigh. _Fucking hell._ He's so tired, physically and emotionally. All this worrying and being angry is really wearing him out.

 

Dean bites his lip, tearing his eyes away from his face. He rubs his neck and starts the engine, wondering if there's a way he could solve the problem with John. Maybe he should just try to talk to his dad. But what is he even supposed to say to him? Besides, John hasn't really listened to him for years – why should he now?

 

Maybe because now there's so much more to lose. They lived here for almost an entire year, and they've never stayed at a place this long – that alone is an achievement. And they build their lives here. Sam goes to school, acing in all his classes, and for the first time ever he has _real_ friends. They both have real friends. Dean even has a job and the most important thing is he has Castiel. He has an actual, functioning relationship with another person. _He's in love with Cas._ And he doesn't want to lose or to ruin any of that.

 

He doesn't know when he decides to drive home, but suddenly he's heading that way and only a few minutes later, he parks in their driveway. It's snowing again and he grimaces as he walks to the front porch, opening the door and hurrying inside. Though, he has to acknowledge that inside of the house, it isn't much warmer than it is outside. He doesn't take off his jacket, since he doesn't plan to stay for long and because it's freezing. Furrowing his brow, he puts his hands on the radiators in all the rooms, but they're all cold. _What the fuck?_ he thinks, realizing that the heater must be broken.

 

 _Terrific._ Yet, another thing he can worry about. Why is everything going quickly? Why does so much bad stuff happen all at once? Can't he just breathe for one minute?

 

And where the hell is John? Doesn't he notice that it's freezing inside? Maybe he isn't even home. At least, he's not in the kitchen and also not in the living room. Dean starts to chew on the inside of his cheek, walking down the hallway. John could be in his bedroom, so Dean stops in front of the door. He hesitates to knock for a few seconds, but then he just does it.

 

“Dad?” he asks through the door, when there's no answer to his knock. He actually shivers with cold. _Since when_ is the heater broken?

 

Dean actually wants to leave already, because John doesn't seem to be home and it's cold – so what's the point of staying here? –, when there's a rustling sound coming from John's room. He stops, tilting his head and waiting. Is John in there or not?

 

It takes his father two more minutes to finally open the door, and then he glares at Dean. “I hope you have a good reason why you're waking me up,” he grumbles.

 

For a few seconds, Dean just blinks at John. “It's freezing in here. Is the heater broken, or what?”

 

“I suppose it is.” John shrugs his shoulders.

 

Dean waits for him to say something else, but John keeps quiet, still glaring at him. “That's all you're saying? We have to repair it,” he says, putting his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

 

“No, we don't,” John says, almost matter-of-factly.

 

Dean creases his forehead in confusion. “Yes, we do.”

 

“No, it doesn't matter anymore. Why should we invest in this house, if we're going to move out soon anyway?” Now, John furrows his brow, and Dean sighs, running his fingers through his hair. “Yeah, dad. That's what I actually wanted to talk with you about.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Sam and I, we don't want to move again,” Dean says. “We like this place. We are... happy here.”

 

Slowly but surely, the confused expression on John's face gives way to a scowl. “I've already told you, Dean. The decision has been made.”

 

“Shouldn't... shouldn't we make this decision together? As a family?” Dean says, but John just shakes his head. “You don't understand it, Dean. You're too young. You shouldn't make such a decision – that's why I made it.”

 

“I'm too young?” Dean wonders in disbelief. “When you were dead drunk most of the time and lost your job, I wasn't too young to find a job to be able to care for Sam, since you weren't able to.”

 

Before he's even able to start regretting what he just said, John has already seized him by the collar, pulling him closer to him. The scowl on his face is gone as well – now, his face changed into a furious grimace. “You always talk yourself into trouble, Dean,” he says with a snarl. “When will you ever learn to just shut the fuck up?”

 

“Let go of me,” Dean says, not any less angry than his father. But John just shakes his head, and the vein in his temple is pulsing dangerously. Dean swallows. _Fuck._ Maybe he should actually learn, when it's time to shut up.

 

“We are going to move, whether you like it or not. I don't care. I also don't care about the fucking heater,” John says low-voiced, but still angrily. “I better see you start packing the next days. Now, stop bugging me.” He pushes Dean away from him, who stumbles a few steps backwards. With one last glare at him, John retreats into his room, slamming the door shut behind him.

 

Dean can just breathe heavily for a few moments, standing in the hallway and staring at John's closed bedroom door. But he leaves before John is able to change his mind and come out of his room again.

 

On the drive to Missouri's house, Dean thinks that he got off lightly, at least. It could have been much worse, though he's mad that he wasn't able to talk properly with John about the moving away. When he parks by the side of the road in front of Missouri's house, he thinks about being the one who brings the bad news once again. He really doesn't want to see his little brother angry, sad or disappointed any longer. But he also can't withhold this from him, or from the others.

 

Though, when he enters the house, he's taken aback for the time being. Missouri, Sam, Castiel, Meg, Gabriel, Benny and Kevin are in the living room, sitting on the couch, in the armchairs or on pillows on the floor. All eyes turn to him, when he stands in the doorway, looking curiously and also a little confused at them. “What are you all doing here?”

 

“We wanted to talk with you,” Gabriel says – he's sitting cross-legged on a pillow, next to the armchair Missouri is sitting in.

 

Cas pats the seat next to him on the couch and Dean walks over to him, sitting down next to him. Meg is sitting on Castiel's other side; Benny is sitting in the other armchair; and Kevin and Sam are sitting next to Gabriel also on pillows on the floor. Everyone is still looking at Dean, who clears his throat – he doesn't like this much attention, when it's about his problems.

 

“Where have you been?” Cas asks him.

 

“At home,” Dean says, shrugging his shoulders. “I wanted to talk with dad.”

 

“And?” Sam asks immediately, staring at him with wide eyes and there's only a little bit of hope in his voice. Still, Dean has to crush that small flicker of hope and he hates to do so. He shakes his head. “He didn't want to listen to me and got angry, when I told him again that we don't want to move. But he didn't do anything,” he says hastily, when he sees the upset expressions on the others' faces. “He just yelled at me.” Dean rubs his neck; he's still feeling so fucking tired.

 

“So... what are we going to do now?” Benny asks, looking at him.

 

Dean returns his look. “What do you mean? _We?”_

 

“Please, someone hit him,” Gabriel says, rolling his eyes. Dean shoots him a dirty look, but doesn't say something and just waits for Gabe to continue speaking. “If you haven't noticed, we are _friends,_ Dean. Friends help you to solve your problems. Friends are there for you.”

 

Meg rolls her eyes at Gabe, but she still says to Dean, “He's right, you know? Get used to it quickly, so we can make a plan.”

 

Dean looks at them, feeling a faint blush on his cheeks, though he tries to ignore that. He chuckles awkwardly at Meg's words. It's still so new to have so many people worrying about him. He's still so unfamiliar with having so many people caring about him.

 

Before he forgets about it, he mentions the broken heater in their house and that John doesn't care about it, since he believes that they're going to move out of the house soon anyway. Missouri is the one, who knows the right words to say to that.

 

“The heater is the least of our problems, I think. You don't have to go back to your house. You can just stay here.”

 

Both, Sam and Dean smile gratefully at her. The burden on Dean's shoulders is already a lot lighter than it has been, when he left the house after the failed attempt to talk to John.

 

“Our biggest problems are Alastair and the situation with your father,” Meg says, looking from Dean to Sam. Everyone agrees on that.

 

“Did Alastair call you again?” Castiel asks.

 

Dean shakes his head. “No, not today. Not yet. I mean, I'm able to live without it, but why should he stop all of a sudden?” The mention of Al is enough for him to tense up again.

 

“Maybe he got wind of you talking to the police,” Kevin pipes up. “If he's actually stalking you, then he should know about that. It's possible that he wants to maintain a low profile for now.”

 

“So smart,” Gabe says, shaking his head a bit in disbelief – as if he wasn't used to Kevin's intelligence by now.

 

“That actually does sound possible,” Benny says.

 

“Okay, let's say Alastair stops calling Dean for now,” Missouri says. “Still, what do we do about the situation with your father?”

 

“I have no idea,” Dean says.

 

Sam lets out a deep sigh. “I don't want to move again. I like it here.”

 

For a moment, Dean remembers the day when they just moved here. He was sitting on the floor in his new bedroom, sorting through all the boxes, and Sam came into his room and the first thing he said was _I don't like it here._ It's amazing how things can change. A few months ago, Sam didn't want to stay here, and Dean didn't want to stay either. They both would have been glad to finally move away again, but John changed his behaviour all of a sudden, therefore they didn't move again. And now, John does want to move away again, and they don't want to leave this place anymore.

 

“Me neither. And you are not going to move, if you don't want to,” Dean says sternly. “We just have to find a way to change dad's mind.”

 

“And how are we going to do that? He won't listen to us,” Sam says, voice sounding bitterly.

 

“But maybe he will listen to someone else,” Cas says, causing everyone to look at him questioningly. Dean wrinkles his brow. “Who are you talking about?”

 

“Bobby,” Cas replies.

 

“Excuse me,” Gabe says, raising his hand. “Who?”

 

“Bobby Singer,” Sam says. “He's a friend of our family.”

 

“And he could help?” Kevin asks.

 

“I don't know. I don't want to bother him with this,” Dean says quietly.

 

“Dean, he said it before – he wants you to bother him with something like this,” Cas says, a bit urgently. “And besides, he already managed once before to talk some sense into your father, when he convinced him to move into his house for a while.”

 

“Yeah, but it didn't last very long,” Dean says. “And it didn't end very well.”

 

“But it would be a start,” Meg says. “And maybe it would delay moving away for a while, at least. I mean, until there's a better solution.”

 

Dean nods slowly. Though, he doesn't really want to involve Bobby in this, but he knows the others are right about it. If someone could talk some sense into John, it would probably be Bobby Singer. “Okay,” he sighs. “I'll call Bobby.”

 

But he waits with doing so until the next day. The reason why Dean is hesitating to call Bobby is that he has to tell him everything then. He hasn't told Bobby how bad it has gotten – the situation with John and, not to mention, the matter with Alastair. Bobby doesn't know anything about Alastair. Dean has to explain a lot.

 

And he doesn't want anyone near him while he's talking to Bobby. He doesn't want to get interrupted by anyone, or have anyone stare at him during this phone call. He's already nervous as it is; he doesn't need someone else to make him even more nervous. So, he parked the Impala somewhere near his workplace by the side of the road, and now he's sitting in the driver's seat with his phone in his hand, biting his lip. Dean knows that it won't get any easier the longer he will wait. Therefore, he dials Bobby's phone number eventually, taking a deep breath before he presses the green button.

 

Bobby answers the call after a few moments. “Dean!” he says, sounding surprised. “Haven't heard anything from you for a while. How are you? How are Sam and Castiel?”

 

Dean doesn't know what to say at first. He hates to talk about his problems. He hates to ask other people for help. He hates to be a burden, to be a bother. But he knows that this is necessary. He reminds himself that Bobby _wants_ to hear about his problems, Bobby _wants_ to be bothered, Bobby _wants_ to help him.

 

“Um... not good,” he answers quietly.

 

“What do you mean _not good?”_ Bobby asks slowly. “What's wrong?”

 

“I... _we_ need your help.” Dean swallows, staring at the steering wheel in front of him with furrowed brow.

 

“Dean, what's wrong? Talk to me,” Bobby demands.

 

And then, everything just bubbles out of Dean. He talks for about ten minutes, barely breathing between his hastily spoken sentences, and tells Bobby about John and also about Alastair. It feels weirdly good to let it all just out, and Bobby lets him talk without trying to interrupt him. When Dean has finished speaking and doesn't think he forgot anything, he falls silent. For a minute or two, he can only hear Bobby's breathing on the other end of the line. But then, Bobby lets out a deep sigh. In his mind's eye, Dean can see how Bobby is shaking his head.

 

“Why didn't you call me sooner, Dean?” he asks with a trace of anger in his voice. “Why didn't you tell me sooner?”

 

“I don't know,” Dean says. “I didn't want to bother you, I guess.”

 

“How many times do I have to tell you that I _want_ to be bothered?”

 

“I'm sorry,” Dean says, and he really means it. “I can understand that you're mad...”

 

“Damn right, I'm mad!” Bobby interrupts him.

 

Dean bites his lip. “But I'd still like to ask you if you could come here, because we really need you.”

 

There's a short moment of silence, but it can't last any longer than just a few seconds. “Of course, Dean. That's what I'm here for. I'll be there tomorrow, alright?”

 

Dean knows immediately that Bobby's anger already fumed away completely. He's grateful to here these words from Bobby, and he can't wait for tomorrow. A new silver lining just appeared on his horizon.

 

Though now, waiting for Bobby to arrive here is a pain in the ass. Dean drives to Missouri's house and lets the others know that he called Bobby and also that Bobby will be here tomorrow. They agree on Sam staying at Gabriel's place once again and Dean staying at Castiel's place or sleeping on Missouri's couch, in order that Bobby is able to sleep in Missouri's guestroom.

 

They spend the rest of the day on the couch. Dean watches _The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey_ together with Sam and a bowl of Missouri's home-made popcorn. But there's a gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach, and either time's moving too quickly or too slowly. He's looking forward to seeing Bobby again; he missed his friend. Though, he knows that John will be furious, because they asked Bobby for help. Without a doubt, there will be another fight. And Dean is able to live without another fight, although he thinks that it might be unavoidable. It's simply a sore subject.

 

Another reason why there's this gnawing feeling inside of him is Alastair. So far, Al hasn't called him again, he hasn't even tried it. And Dean doesn't know what to think of that. Because honestly – why should Alastair just stop bothering them? He's a psychopath and a freak. Yes, maybe Kevin is right, and Al wants to maintain a low profile for now. But still... Dean is waiting for the next call, because they can't be sure about this. He isn't able to blank out this feeling, or his worries. He can't just stop being so tensed all the time. It's really unnerving, and also annoying.

 

At least, when Bobby arrives the next day, he's able to push the matter with Alastair to the back of his mind for a while. There's a new top priority, and that's John and his decision to move away once again.

 

Bobby arrives in the afternoon, just shortly after Charlie, Garth and Kevin came over. Once again, they gathered in the living room, and Bobby shakes Charlie's, Garth's, and Kevin's hands, who introduce themselves to him.

 

Dean feels relief sweeping over him at the sight of Bobby. He hopes that Bobby is able to get through to John – he doesn't know what else they could try, when this doesn't work. Sam is also very happy to see Bobby again, and it's the first time in days that he smiles a genuine smile, and not a forced or a tired smile.

 

At first, Missouri and Bobby eye each other a little warily – Bobby doesn't know her at all, and Missouri only knows what Dean and Sam told her about him. And of course, they told her good stuff about Bobby, but she likes to get an idea of somebody herself. To Dean's surprise, the mutual distrust is put aside quickly, and he has to acknowledge that they actually get along very well. Missouri seems glad to see Sam so happy again, and Dean thinks she can also tell that he's relieved and significantly more relaxed since the moment Bobby entered the house.

 

Missouri just made tea and came back into the living room with a tray full of steaming mugs, when the door bell rings. Dean jumps to his feet right away, saying that he'll answer the door. He ignores the knowing look Bobby shoots him.

 

Cas is standing on the front porch together with Lucifer. “Hi,” he says, looking beautiful as ever, wearing his trenchcoat over a grey sweater and blue jeans, and with by the wind disheveled hair.

 

“Hey,” Dean says, smiling softly.

 

“Yeah, hi. I'm also here,” Lucifer says, letting out a chuckle.

 

Dean starts to grin sheepishly. “Hey,” he says, stepping aside to let them both in. Cas winks at him, taking off his trenchcoat. “Is Bobby already here?” he asks.

 

“Damn right, I'm already here,” sounds a voice from the living room.

 

Dean sighs, rolling his eyes. “Yes, he's already here.”

 

Lucifer enters the living room first, leaving Dean and Castiel standing in the hallway. Dean takes advantage of that and kisses Cas briefly. They hear Lucifer and Bobby greeting each other.

 

“Hi, Lucifer Novak. I'm Cas' big brother.”

 

Cas grins against Dean's lips, but Dean did already notice that the blue-eyed boy looks weirdly pale. He furrows his brow. “Are you okay?”

 

There's an unsure expression on Cas' face at that question. He takes a deep breath and shakes his head.

 

“What's wrong?” Dean asks immediately.

 

“Not now,” Castiel says quietly and just takes his hand, pulling him along into the living room.

 

Dean is confused and also worried. _What is wrong?_ And why doesn't Cas talk to him? But then he understands – Cas doesn't want to talk about himself right now, because all the others are there. He darts a glance at Castiel, when they're in the living room and Cas says hello to Bobby as well. It's not just that he's unusually pale – there are dark circles under his eyes, he looks exhausted and strangely distant, as if he's not able to focus properly. Dean swallows down all the questions he wants to ask Cas, but that only causes them to swirl around in his head.

 

Eventually, Castiel returns his look and tries to reassure him non-verbally. He squeezes Dean's hand, flashing him a crooked smile. Dean looks back at him and knows Cas can see the doubts in his eyes. Something is wrong, and Dean knows that. He just doesn't know what. Castiel needs to tell him what's wrong as soon as possible. He simply can't stand it to worry even more, especially when he has to worry about Cas.

 

They all go into the kitchen, since there's more space so nobody has to sit on a pillow on the floor.

 

Bobby sits down at the kitchen table together with Sam, Missouri, Lucifer, and Kevin. Dean, Castiel and Garth lean against the counter. For a moment, there's silence and Bobby has a look around and also eyes all the unfamiliar faces again. But he doesn't seem to feel uncomfortable. Dean can't even remember if he's ever seen Bobby feeling uncomfortable – he just always appears so confident and witty, no matter what or who he's with.

 

“So,” Charlie starts after two minutes. “What do we do now?”

 

“Charlie, right?” Bobby says, and she nods. “Well, I think I will pay John Winchester a visit and try to knock some sense into him.”

 

They all couldn't agree more that this is exactly what's needed. Though, Dean still glances at Cas from the side every now and then, and he hopes that the problem with John will be solved soon, so that they can concentrate on other things again. And he really hopes they find a solution for whatever it is that's making the blue-eyed boy feel bad as well.

 

But no matter what it is, he will be there for Cas. And if that's the only thing he can do, then he hopes that it will be enough. It pains him to see Castiel like this, so fucking tired once again as if he hasn't slept properly. His tiredness is so visible – at least, to Dean – in the lazy movements of the sea waves in his blue eyes. Though, Dean wonders if he looks this tired as well. He thinks he should, since he isn't really able to sleep once again.

 

Well – at least, they can be tired together.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Castiel does notice the way Dean looks at him – green eyes full of worries, with the question _What's wrong?_ on the tip of his tongue. But for now, he ignores it. They have enough problems already. The matter with Alastair and the situation with John Winchester already cause enough stress, anger and worries. Cas really doesn't want to add to that right now.

 

But the truth is that he's not okay. He feels actually pretty miserable again, and the reason for that is his inner turmoil.

 

Cas looks at Dean from the side, while Bobby tells them that he will go to the Winchester's house tomorrow and try to talk to John. The green-eyed boy is tensed but also relieved at the same time. Castiel sighs internally, looking back at Bobby. He wants to be there for Dean, he really wants to help him and to support him and just to be there for him, when he needs him. And he does need him right now, and that means for Cas that he has the feeling that he _has_ to be there for Dean.

 

Though, the problem is he doesn't think he's mentally in a good enough place to do so. At the end of the month, on December 27 th  , is the _anniversary_ of his suicide attempt. And he's scared of this day like every year. It almost has the same effect on him than the _anniversary_ of his rape. As if it was yesterday, he's able to remember when he went into the bathroom and sat down on the cold tiles, leaning against the bathtub with a razor blade in his hand. As if it was yesterday, he's able to remember when he woke up at the hospital, his brother sitting next to his bed, and the wave of disappointment washing over him when he realized it didn't work and that he was still alive.

 

Before he met Dean, before he came together with Dean, he felt this disappointment anew every day. He didn't want to be alive. He didn't want to live with his pain and with all these horrible memories. But he also didn't want to try to kill himself again. What if it hadn't worked again? Cas always knew that he couldn't stand to wake up in the hospital and to see _this_ expression on his brother's face once more.

 

He shoots Lucifer a look, but looks away before his brother notices it and returns it. Lucifer is the only one at the moment – besides himself –, who knows what's wrong. Lucifer knows why he's looking so tired, he knows what day is waiting for them at the end of the month.

 

Cas knows that he has to tell Dean. He wants to tell Dean. Though, he doesn't want Dean to worry about him, especially when there's so much other stuff going on. But they have to be honest with each other, and Dean wants him to be honest with him. Besides, Dean deserves to know. No matter what, it's better – especially for their relationship – when Castiel tells Dean the truth and doesn't lie. He also doubts that he could be convincing for very long. He's too fucking tired to pretend that he's completely fine.

 

But when Dean asks him _What's wrong?_ again the next day, Cas still doesn't answer him. He repeats his answer from yesterday – _not now_ – and ignores the expression on Dean's face that clearly says _Really?_. There is something that's much more urgent.

 

Bobby went to the Winchester's house before noon and when he comes back, he's in a really bad mood. Apparently, John was surprised to see him at first and Bobby hoped that he could take advantage of that, but John quickly regained his composure and refused to talk to him. Bobby didn't even make it into the house, and eventually John slammed the door in his face.

 

When Bobby is done telling them what happened, he lets out a deep sigh, rubbing his face. There's a depressed mood in Missouri's kitchen, though no one looks as sad and angry as Sam does. Of course, everyone notices that and Bobby looks at Sam with a pained expression on his face.

 

Cas sees the way Dean furrows his brow. “What did dad say to you?” the green-eyed boy asks.

 

Bobby returns his look for a moment before glancing back at Sam. Now, Castiel furrows his brow as well. There's something Bobby hasn't told them yet.

 

Again, Bobby sighs. “He said that he doesn't want to talk to me. Or to anyone. He doesn't want to see anyone at the moment. That applies to you, too.” He looks at Sam and Dean. “I'm really sorry.”

 

Dean starts to bite his lip, and Sam seems even more upset. It's in this moment that Castiel decides that they could use some distraction. And apparently, he isn't the only one who thinks that.

 

The very next day, Bobby and Missouri pick Sam up from school and drive with him to a nearby town. There's a big antique shop and its owner is kind of a business partner of Missouri. She has to carry on negotiations with him, and Bobby is very interested in Missouri's work, so he offered to drive with her. And they both thought that Sam could do with some distraction, and since he's interested in this kind of stuff as well, they asked him if he wanted to accompany them and Sam said yes.

 

Besides, Castiel has a hunch that Missouri and Bobby want to give Dean and him some alone time. Well – Cas raised no objections to that. It's actually coming in useful to him, since Dean and he could also use some distraction.

 

He has an early shift at Pamela's diner and Dean picks him up after work, briefly saying hello to Pamela.

 

“What do you want to do now?” Dean asks him, when they sit in the Impala. There's still worry in his green eyes as he looks at him, and Cas doesn't like it. “We could drive to me,” he answers innocently – Lucifer is still at work and wouldn't come home before 6 pm, so they have the house to themselves.

 

“Okay,” Dean says, but there's a questioning look on his face now. Cas just smiles softly at him, pecking him on the cheek.

 

They drive to his house in silent, just listening to some music, and when Dean parked in the driveway and they got out of the car, Cas takes his hand and they walk together to the front door.

 

“Do you tell me now what's wrong?” Dean asks as soon as Castiel closed the door behind him and they stand in the hallway.

Cas takes off his trenchcoat and hangs it on the coat rack before he takes Dean's leather jacket from him and hangs it next to his coat. Only then, he returns Dean's look, but he shakes his head.

 

Dean cocks his head to the side. “Come on, Cas. Tell me what's wrong. You promised to be honest with me. Is there too much going on right now? I could understand that, I know that it's a lot. Just tell me what you need.”

 

Cas huffs a small breath, stepping closer to the green-eyed boy. “You're sweet,” he says quietly. “And I know that I promised you to be honest with you,” he adds, when he sees the expression on Dean's face. “I'll tell you.”

 

“But not now,” Dean says, and there's a faint trace of bitterness in his voice.

 

Castiel wrinkles his brow slightly. “I'll tell you,” he says, taking Dean's hand again. “Later.” He puts his other hand on Dean's cheek. “Don't you think we should make use of being completely alone?” he wonders, low-voiced.

 

Dean looks at him with wide eyes, and there's understanding, flashing through the green. “Are you sure?” he asks quietly.

 

“Yeah,” Cas says. “Remember? You said I should tell you if I'm ready. That's what I'm doing right now.” He doesn't wait for Dean to response, he just pulls him along and they go upstairs and into Castiel's room, closing the door behind them.

 

The green-eyed boy lets out a low chuckle, when Cas grabs the hem of his sweater right away, wanting to pull it over his head. “Woah,” he breathes, putting his hands on Castiel's waist.

 

“Don't ask me again, if I'm sure about this,” Cas says quietly. “Because I am.”

 

Dean nods but he also rolls his eyes at him, leaning forward and capturing his lips with his own regardless. Castiel smiles into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Dean and pulling him closer, but only until Dean plunges his tongue into his mouth. Cas starts to walk backwards and Dean follows him. Again, he grabs the hem of Dean's sweater and this time Dean lets him pull it over his head and throw it to the side. For a moment, Cas just stares at Dean, letting his eyes roam over Dean's upper body before he puts his hands on Dean's shoulders, fingertips wandering down his arms. Dean watches his movements in amazement, his breath hitching in his throat when Castiel fumbles around with his belt. But the green-eyed boy lets him pull his belt off, and Cas just lets it fall to the floor before he instantly opens the button and the zipper of Dean's jeans, pulling them down.

 

With a grin, Dean steps out of his jeans, standing in front of him only in his boxers. Castiel tilts his head slightly, biting his lip.

 

“Your turn,” Dean whispers, his voice even rougher than usual. He kisses him again and when he wants to take off his sweater, Cas lifts his arms. He has closed his eyes, nervously clenching and unclenching his fists. It's still difficult for him to know that Dean is seeing his scars. They're still disgusting, they're still ugly in his eyes.

 

A few seconds pass by, and neither of them makes a move or says a word. But then Dean starts to speak again. “Can you look at me?”

 

Cas bites his lip, slowly opening his eyes. There's a soft smile, playing on Dean's lips. “You are art,” he says simply, stepping closer to Cas, and unzips his jeans. Castiel swallows, throat rippling. He huffs a breath, shaking his head and pulling down his jeans, disregarding them on the floor.

 

“You're okay?” Dean asks. His pupils are dilated and his growing erection is already visible through the thin fabric of his boxers. Cas licks his lips and just nods.

 

They lie down on the bed, both on their sides but facing each other. Dean puts a hand on his cheek, caressing his skin with tender fingertips. He touches his cheekbone, his jawline, the side of his neck, his collarbone, his shoulder and his arm. His green eyes watches his own fingers move gently over the tattoos and the scars on Cas' arm, and eventually he takes Cas' hand, intertwining their fingers.

 

Castiel is just trying to breathe even. Dean gives his hand a gentle squeeze, scooting a little closer and pressing their lips together. Cas lets go of Dean's hand, in order that he can put it on the side of Dean's face, kissing him back eagerly. His nervousness faded into a background noise, and when Dean puts his hand on the small of his back, he groans. In a matter of seconds, he rolls on top of Dean, without stopping to kiss him. One of his legs his between Dean's legs, and he presses his thigh against Dean's crotch, making the green-eyed boy moan. Cas pulls away slightly, already breathing hard, and he grins against Dean's lips.

 

Dean returns his grin a little breathlessly, running his fingers through Castiel's hair. “God, you're so gorgeous,” he says adoringly, but at the same time he rolls his hips upwards, earning another groan from Cas. He lets his hands wander over Castiel's back to the waistband of his boxers, looking up at him questioningly. Cas simply nods and pulls his boxers down before he helps Dean to get rid of his own boxers as well.

 

The green-eyed boy wants to pull him down on top of him again, but Cas doesn't let him. He just pecks him on the lips once and reaches over to open the drawer of his nightstand, getting the small bottle of lube and a condom out of it. Dean bites his lip and spreads his legs, grinning up at him. Cas would have rolled his eyes at him, if it wasn't fucking _hot._

 

He settles in between Dean's legs, putting both his hands on Dean's hips. A tiny smile touches the corners of Dean's mouth, and he waits patiently for Cas to make the first move. Cas teases Dean only for a few moments, just taking in the sight in front of him before taking Dean's cock in his hand. Dean swallows hard, hips jerking upwards unintentionally at the sudden touch. Castiel starts to grin again. He likes the feeling of Dean's dick in his hand, likes the way Dean's back arches off the mattress, when he starts to move his hand up and down his shaft.

 

Soon, tiny moans are clawing their way up from Dean's throat, and he grabs the pillow beneath his head with his left hand. Castiel removes his hand from Dean's dick when he's fully hard, quickly grabbing the bottle of lube and opening it. He squeezes a small amount on his fingers, rubbing them together before he locks eyes with Dean again. The green-eyed boy gives him an eager nod, and Cas pushes the first finger into him. Dean tenses up for a second, but then he remembers to relax again. Cas waits for Dean to adjust before he slowly starts to move his finger in and out of him.

 

“Come on, Cas, I'm not gonna break,” Dean says, chuckling roughly, but it turns quickly into a loud moan, when Castiel instantly adds a second finger. He raises his eyebrows at Dean teasingly, thrusting his fingers in and out of him, scissoring him open.

 

“Fuck, _Castiel,”_ Dean whispers, sucking in a breath, when Cas hits that spot deep inside of him.

 

Castiel trails his mouth along Dean's jaw, down to the side of his neck, pressing his fingers a little more roughly into the green-eyed boy, hitting his prostrate a couple more times. And then his lips are against Dean's again, who's gasping and looking at him with wide eyes. Not even a minute later, Dean groans his name – _Castiel_ – again, and Cas doesn't think he'll ever get tired of this.

 

“Cas, I'm good,” Dean moans, his voice deeper than usual, and fucking hell, Castiel realizes this is what Dean sounds like when he wants to have him inside him. Only now, he takes notice of his own throbbing dick, and he nods, signaling Dean that he heard him while pulling his fingers out.

 

Dean whimpers quietly at the loss, but watches him intensely tearing open the condom and putting it on his cock. Cas also realizes that he can't wait any longer to be inside Dean again. He remembers their first time and it felt amazing and he wants that again. He looks down at the green-eyed boy, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth – he's allowed to have this again.

 

“You're okay?” he mumbles, locking eyes with Dean, who nods. But there's an expression on Dean's face that Castiel can't read. It's as if Dean was thinking about something at breakneck speed. Then, without prior warning, he flips them over, so that Cas is lying on his back and Dean is straddling him. For a long moment, Castiel forgets how to breathe, staring up at Dean and not knowing what to do.

 

Dean puts his hands on either side of his face, leaning down and kissing him softly. “Breathe,” he mutters, and Cas sucks in a breath, his heart hammering in his chest. His thoughts are tumbling in his head, and there are certain pictures surfacing from the back of his mind. He squeezes his eyes shut.

 

“Oh god, I'm so sorry,” he hears Dean say, but he shakes his head frantically, putting his hands on Dean's sides, because he has to hold on to something. There's a slight tremor in his arms. _Fuck,_ he thinks. _Not now._ He opens his eyes and is met with a sorrowful expression on Dean's face.

 

“I'm sorry,” Dean repeats, gently running his fingers through Castiel's hair. Cas shakes his head again, forcing his heart to calm down. “Don't,” he says. “Don't apologize.”

 

“I should have said something...,” Dean starts right away, but Cas lifts his head from the pillow and kisses him, silencing him. Though, Dean pulls away, wrinkling his brow. “We should... we should stop,” he says slowly.

 

Cas furrows his brow. “No,” he says. “We're not gonna stop.”

 

“But...,” Dean starts yet again. Cas just puts a finger against his lips, stopping him. “I'm okay,” he says quietly, huffing a small breath. “You just took me by surprise.”

 

“I've ruined the mood,” Dean says, biting his lip.

 

Castiel kisses him again, letting himself sink back onto the mattress, pulling Dean along. “Then, we have to get back into the mood.” He thrusts his hips upwards, meeting Dean's. Their erections have waned, and there's still regret in Dean's beautiful green eyes – Cas doesn't like to see it there.

 

“Babe, look at me,” he says, the term of endearment rolling off his tongue downright naturally, even though he hasn't said it before. Dean returns his look, surprised but also relieved. “I'm not mad at you. I want to continue. Just... can you tell me what you wanted to do?”

 

Dean licks his lips, swallowing. “Ride you,” he answers honestly, a faint blush covering his cheeks.

 

Cas nods, warmth blooming in his chest while he lets that thought sink in – and he has to admit that he likes the idea of Dean riding him. Again, he pulls Dean down on him, grinding up against him and this time, Dean meets the thrusts of his hips. They keep going until they're both completely hard again, panting against each other's lips. Dean presses a few open mouth kisses against his neck and down to his collarbone, and Castiel remembers the hickey he gave Dean the last time they were this close and he feels the sudden wish to have one as well now.

 

“You can...,” he mumbles, holding on to Dean's shoulder, not able to finish the sentence, because Dean just found a sensitive spot and started to suck at his skin. But apparently, the green-eyed boy gets what he means, since he spends quite a while nipping, biting and licking at where his neck meets his shoulder. When he pulls away, there's a smug expression on his face, and Castiel likes this so much better and returns Dean's grin immediately.

 

“You're okay?” Dean asks him, voice rougher than usual again – _thank god,_ Cas thinks – and sits up straight, straddling his lap again.

 

Cas puts his hands on Dean's hips and nods. “Yeah, I'm okay. And you're beautiful,” he adds, staring at Dean in awe. Dean's cheeks and his chest are flushed with arousal now, his dick is standing at a proud curve up towards his stomach, and his green eyes are shining brightly. _Mine,_ Cas thinks. _This is all mine. This beautiful boy is mine._ Downright fascinated, he returns Dean's look, feeling as if there were thousands of mini butterflies inside of him, and he still can't believe that this is all actually happening – that he's actually able to allow this to happen. But he's feeling okay right now, it feels good to have Dean this close to him.

 

“Are _you_ okay?” he wonders, wanting Dean to be comfortable as well.

 

“I'm more than okay, baby,” Dean answers, lifting his hips that Cas is still holding on to. They lock eyes once more, and Castiel gives Dean what he wants – one last sign that it's okay, that he's okay and that he actually wants this – and nods.

 

Slowly, Dean positions Cas' cock at his entrance, sinking down until Castiel is fully sheathed inside of him. A groan is practically punched out of Cas – Dean feels so tight and hot and _perfect_ around his dick. He stares up at the green-eyed boy, feeling as if he's in a haze. Dean puts his hands on Cas' chest, biting his lip and looking at him with lust filled eyes. When he begins to move, they both start to moan once more.

 

A shiver runs up and down Cas' spin as Dean swivels his hips down. His hands are gripping Dean's sides tightly, helping him to roll his hips and to angle himself in the right way, so that Cas' dick hits Dean's prostate with every thrust. Cas also jerks his own hips upwards, up into the heat of Dean's body, and he couldn't tell how much time actually passes until he's feeling a familiar burning in his lower abdomen. Dean's movements become a little erratic and he spears himself on Castiel's dick, who knows that they're both close.

 

“Oh fuck, yes,” Dean mutters, picking up even more pace and taking his own aching cock in hand. Cas stares at Dean, wanting nothing more than to fix _this image_ – Dean riding his cock and jerking himself off, mouth slightly hanging open, and groaning his name – on his mind.

 

And then, Dean is coming, shooting stripes of white over his hand and over Castiel's stomach, and the way Dean is moaning his name and also the way he's clenching around him are enough to make Cas come as well. Breathing heavily, they work themselves through their climax with almost lazy movements, and after a couple more moments, Dean collapses on top of him, Cas' cock softening inside of him.

 

Castiel is just laying there, trying to catch his breath and running his fingers kind of absentmindedly through Dean's hair. Dean presses soft kisses to the hollow of Cas' neck and after a few minutes, he shifts off of Cas, who groans when his cock slips out of Dean. Dean is still panting a bit, and he rolls on his back, tucking one arm behind his head and staring at the ceiling. Cas grimaces at the quickly drying cum on his stomach as he pulls the condom off his dick.

 

Dean glances at him, green eyes glistening, and he gets up. Castiel looks at him quizzically, wanting to ask where he's going, but he finds himself not being able to speak. When Dean returns, Cas' breathing is finally even again. He sees the washcloth in Dean's hand and smiles gratefully at him, when Dean cleans him up, kissing his cheek. The green-eyed boy simply throws the washcloth away when he's done, lying down next to Castiel again.

 

Cas scoots closer to him, lying on his side and putting one hand on Dean's chest. He holds himself up on one elbow, resting his head in his other hand. Dean flashes him an idle smile. “Hey.”

 

“Hi,” Cas replies, letting out a chuckle.

 

“That was _awesome,”_ Dean says, chuckling as well. He's beaming at Castiel. “How are you?”

 

“I'm okay,” Cas says.

 

Dean nods slowly, but the post-climax twinkle in his eyes starts to cease. “You said we would talk later.”

 

Cas bites his bottom lip, avoiding Dean's eyes all of a sudden. “Yeah, I said that.”

 

“Now is later,” Dean remarks carefully.

 

“I know.” Cas nods, but he still doesn't look at the green-eyed boy.

 

“You wanted to distract yourself, right?” Dean asks suddenly, causing Castiel to raise his eyes after all. Cas wrinkles his brow slightly. “Yeah. I mean, I wanted to distract us both.”

 

Dean doesn't look very happy, when he hears his answer. He presses his eyebrows together.

 

“What's wrong with that?” Cas asks, worry dripping down the back of his throat, sinking into his stomach and feeling like a heavy stone deep inside of him. “You think because of that sleeping with you doesn't mean something to me?” Now, he presses his eyebrows together as well.

 

Dean licks his lips. “No, that's not what I think. I just... I don't know,” he says quietly. “I did something wrong and you looked like you were on the verge of having an anxiety attack again, because of it. That scared me, okay? And I don't think it would have been worth it, if you had actually had an anxiety attack, you know, when you just wanted to distract us.”

 

Cas returns Dean's look sadly. The heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach intensifies. “I'm sorry,” he says, voice cracking ever so slightly.

 

Dean seems distraught. “What? No, why are you apologizing?”

 

“Because... because...” Cas tries to explain it, but he doesn't know how. “I just thought it was a good idea, but apparently I was wrong.”

 

Dean still looks at him with wide eyes. “Don't apologize, Cas. It _was_ a good idea. I think there's a misunderstanding right now.” He covers Castiel's hand that's still laying on his chest with his own. “I mean, the distraction was good and we both did need it. But there's something else, right? You're not getting this worked up, because of what I just said, right? Maybe you should tell me what else is wrong?”

 

Cas drops his gaze again, staring at his arms – at his scars. He takes a deep breath. “At the end of the month,” he starts and his voice is just a whisper, “is the anniversary of my suicide attempt.” Again, he doesn't look at Dean. “That's what's wrong. That day... it's just never been a good day for me since... you know.”

 

He hears Dean sighing, but he still doesn't look up again. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier. I just... I didn't want to think about it even more.”

 

“Cas, it's okay,” Dean says. “I understand.” He squeezes his hand. “I have to apologize. What I did earlier on... I should have warn you, or something... I should have said something, and not just do it.”

 

“I don't want you to apologize, Dean. You just did what you wanted to do in that moment. If your boyfriend was a mentally stable person, it would have been okay and this conversation wouldn't be happening right now,” he says tonelessly.

 

“Castiel, don't say something like that.”

 

Now, Cas does look up and back at Dean. “Why not? It's the truth.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Do you know how _difficult_ this is for me? Being this close to you? Being intimate with you? Just being naked in front of you is taking so much strength.”

 

“I know that,” Dean says quietly. “And I know the reasons for that.” He shakes his head slightly. “I don't take it for granted, if that's what you think. And I've told you we're not doing anything you're not ready for, or that you don't want to do. But why are you telling me this right now?”

 

“Because of what you just told me. That me being close to having an anxiety attack scared you. Didn't you notice how quickly I calmed down again?”

 

Dean seems genuinely confused. “Well. Yeah, I guess. Why?”

 

“I calmed down because of you,” Cas says.

 

There's a moment of silence. Dean just stares back at him, creasing his forehead in confusion. “I honestly have no idea where this conversation is going right now,” he admits wonderingly.

 

Cas still feels too sad to let out a chuckle. “I'm not mentally stable. And you know that. It's just a fact,” he adds quickly, when Dean wants to interrupt him right away. “It's not okay, but I want you to understand how much you are helping me.” He looks Dean in the eye, swallowing.

 

Dean told him _that he is art._ Castiel still isn't sure, but he thinks maybe – _just maybe_ – these three words are indeed a substitute for other three words Dean isn't able to say yet. Cas is also still not able to tell Dean that he loves him. But perhaps he could find other words to tell Dean for now as well. Though, he might need more than three words, but he thinks that's okay.

 

“It's easier to breathe, when you're around.”

 

Dean's thumb draws idle circles on the back of his hand, and the green-eyed boy seems like he doesn't know what to say to that.

 

“You don't have to say something to that.” Cas lets out a sigh. “I just wanted you to know.”

 

Dean bites his lip, but he still nods. “Come here,” he mutters, pulling Cas closer, who lays his head on Dean's chest. Dean puts one arm around him and presses a kiss to his forehead. Again, there's silence but Castiel doesn't have the feeling that it's uncomfortable.

 

“Then, I'll just be around,” Dean murmurs. “And no matter what you may be or not, you're still everything to me.”

 

Castiel smiles against Dean's skin. “Okay,” he whispers. “That's all I need. That's all I want."

 


	29. Chapter 29

Biting his lip, Castiel looks from Dean to Bobby and back to Dean. He doesn't know if he should say something, doesn't know if he's even supposed to say something. Therefore, he keeps quiet. The atmosphere in Missouri's kitchen is already tensed as it is – Cas doesn't want to add to that by saying the wrong thing.

 

Dean's jaw is clenched and his throat ripples as he swallows. He's staring at the floor, hands gripping the edge of the counter so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Castiel's heart feels heavy as it's beating rapidly against his ribs. He darts a glance at Bobby, who's looking at Dean with wrinkled brow.

 

“And what are we going to do now?” Dean asks through gritted teeth. He doesn't look up.

 

Bobby sighs quietly, glancing at Castiel, who just shrugs his shoulders – he doesn't know either. “Look, Dean,” Bobby starts. “If someone doesn't want to talk, or if someone doesn't want any help, there's nothing you can really do. You can't force people to talk with you, nor can you force them to accept help. And if they don't want your help, it doesn't matter how much you try to help them.”

 

A little reluctantly, Dean looks up. “But there has to be something we can do,” he says tiredly. “What if dad stood before the door suddenly and came for us? I don't have to go with him, but Sam...”

 

“I know,” Bobby replies bitterly.

 

“Will you try to talk to him again?” Dean asks.

 

Bobby cocks his head to the sight, sighing again. “What's the point of that? He's blocking any attempt to start a conversation. He doesn't let me into the house. I have tried to talk to him again a few times. Dean, he doesn't even pick up the phone anymore.”

 

“And what are you trying to say with that?” Dean asks, a little moodily now.

 

“Maybe we should give him some time. You know, taking one step back isn't a bad idea,” Bobby says, but Dean huffs a breath, rubbing his face. “Hey, I'm trying to help, but what am I supposed to do if John doesn't want to talk to me?”

 

“He doesn't want to talk to anybody!” Dean exclaims. “What am I supposed to say to Sam?”

 

“Cas, would you care to give us a bit of your mind?” Bobby looks at him, raising his eyebrows.

 

For a moment, Cas is a little overwhelmed by the sudden request. He clears his throat, looking at Dean, who's returning his look with raised eyebrows as well. “Bobby's right. Maybe we should take one step back and...”

 

Dean scoffs, looking away. Cas presses his lips together, shaking his head. “Could you give us a moment?” he asks Bobby quietly.

 

Bobby nods, getting up, but he shoots him a worried look. Castiel notices that Bobby's eyes rest on the shadows under his own blue eyes and his unusual pale skin for a few seconds before he leaves the kitchen. Dean looks after Bobby and sighs. Cas keeps sitting on the kitchen chair for a minute or so, just looking at the green-eyed boy. Dean doesn't meet his eyes, he's staring at the floor again, biting his lip.

 

Eventually, Castiel gets up and walks over to Dean, standing in front of him. He reaches his hand out, covering Dean's left hand that's gripping the edge of the counter again. Cas steps a little closer, thumb moving soothingly over the back of Dean's hand for a moment before he takes it and intertwines their fingers. Though, Dean doesn't look at him.

 

“Dean,” Cas says quietly. He puts his other hand under Dean's chin, his fingers tracing the light stubble there. A small smile tugs at the corners of Dean's mouth at the affectionate touch. Castiel huffs an equally small laugh, dropping his hand to the side of Dean's neck. “Come on, look at me.”

 

Swallowing, Dean lifts his eyes. Cas leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to Dean's lips. “You need to dial it down, babe,” he says gently, letting go of Dean's hand so that he can press both of his hands to Dean's chest. “Only a notch,” he adds, a little bit pleadingly.

 

Dean nods. “Yeah, I know. I'm sorry.”

 

“You don't have to apologize,” Castiel says immediately.

 

“Yes, I do,” Dean insists. “I was rude. It's just... I'm really worried about Sam. And we haven't heard anything from Alastair again. Or from the police.”

 

“I know that,” Cas says understandingly. “I'm worried, too. But that's no reason to snap at the people who are trying to help you.”

 

Dean bites his bottom lip again. “Yeah. I... I will apologize to Bobby.” He nods, returning Cas' look and putting his hands on Cas' waist, carefully pulling him closer. Dean's eyes linger on the shadows under Castiel's eyes and on his pale skin with a worried expression as well. “Did you sleep last night?”

 

Cas huffs a small, humorless laugh. “Yeah,” he says. “For about three hours.” Dean wants to say something else, but Cas shakes his head. “This isn't about me right now.”

 

“But you look exhausted,” Dean says quietly.

 

“That's probably because I am exhausted,” Cas says, giving Dean a small smile, but the green-eyed boy doesn't return his smile. “Nightmares, you know,” Castiel mutters.

 

“Do you wanna talk about these nightmares?” Dean asks cautiously.

 

Cas bites his lip for a moment. “No,” he decides. “Not at the moment.”

 

Dean gently runs his fingers through his hair, and Cas leans into the touch. His tiredness is throbbing as a dull pain somewhere behind his eyes.

 

“If you want to talk about them, I'm right here, okay?” Dean says, and Cas just nods, leaning forward again and capturing Dean's lips with his own. The green-eyed boy kisses him back, running his tongue along Cas' bottom lip. Without having to think about it, Castiel parts his lips, allowing Dean to slide his tongue into his mouth. Cas presses closer to Dean, fingers flexing on Dean's sides.

 

“I'm gonna dial it down,” Dean whispers against his lips, smiling softly. “I promise.”

 

Cas nods, feeling relieved. “Okay. We'll handle this problem. Together.”

 

“Okay,” Dean says, kissing him again and putting his hand on the small of Castiel's back. “I just hoped that Bobby would get through to dad right away. I don't know what else we're supposed to do.”

 

Again, Castiel doesn't know what to say to that, or if he's even supposed to say something. His heart gets a little heavier at the sight of Dean now. The green-eyed boy looks so worried, sad and angry, and Cas knows there's not a lot that he can do for him at the moment – especially because he's mentally not in a good enough place for that.

 

He can't really sleep. And if he's able to fall asleep, he sleeps fitfully – his nightmares are back... and he's really just so fucking tired. Cas doesn't feel well at all, it's rather the exact opposite. The worse is that he's not able to hide it, at least from his friends. He hates this so fucking much. Even after everything, he still doesn't want anyone to worry about him. Castiel just thinks that they have enough on their plates – in fact, it's actually too much already. He really, really doesn't want to add to that, although he knows that Dean, Lucifer and all the others want him to talk to them, want to be there for him and to help him. It's just that he hates to be a burden.

 

 _Don't we have enough problems?_ he thinks, when he's walking to Missouri's shop the next day, where he has a late shift. Dean is working as well, Sam is at school and the rest is also busy with work, school or college. They all have to worry too much already – there's the matter with Alastair, the situation with John Winchester... Castiel's mental health shouldn't be another thing they have to bother their heads about. Cas doesn't want that.

 

He lets out a deep sigh, watching large snowflakes swirling through the air and landing on the ground, joining the ones before them. There's already a relatively thick mantle of snow, covering the pavements, the streets, the cars and the houses. Despite everything, there's a small smile playing on Castiel's face right now. He just loves winter. He loves snow, he loves to watch the snowfall. Sure... he tried to kill himself in the wintertime, but he was always able to connect his suicide attempt more with Christmas and the end of the year, and not with winter by itself. The wintertime definitely beats the summertime – since he got raped in July.

 

The bell above the door jingles, when he enters Missouri's shop. It's pleasantly warm inside and he takes his trenchcoat off, walking to the back of the shop. He knocks at the door to Missouri's office and she says, “Come in!”. Cas opens the door and sees Missouri sitting behind her desk. She looks up and smiles at him, though her smile wanes a bit when her eyes set on his face and she takes in how miserable he's looking. Nevertheless, Castiel flashes her a smile in return, even though it's an exhausted one. But she doesn't mention it.

 

Cas cleans up the shop and takes care of the customers, trying to occupy his mind with these tasks while Missouri does all the paperwork and makes a few phone calls. His shift goes by surprisingly fast, and when he put on his trenchcoat, Missouri gives him a small box with tea bags in it. Castiel takes the box, but looks at her questioningly.

 

She chuckles. “You're having trouble sleeping well, honey. These will help, I promise.”

 

He nods, a small smile quirking up the corners of his mouth. “Thanks. See you tomorrow.”

 

Missouri gives him a hug before he leaves, and Cas hugs her back. He feels the need to tell her that he's okay, or at least that he's going to be okay, so that she doesn't worry too much about him, but he keeps his mouth shut. First of all, he absolutely hates to lie to Missouri, and second he doesn't know if he were able to be convincing anyway. But much to his chagrin, he has this feeling – the need to tell the others that he's okay – again and again.

 

Of course, everyone notices that something's off, and that he's unwell. And Castiel notices the worry in their eyes and the ways they look or simply smile at him. These things are making him feel uneasy, but he doesn't say anything, since he doesn't want to draw their attention to his uneasiness.

 

Dean always takes his hand as soon as he's close enough, intertwining their fingers, soothingly drawing circles on the back of Cas' hand with his thumb, and pressing soft kisses to the palm of Cas' hand. Actually, they're kissing a lot in general. It doesn't distract Castiel exactly, nor does it really distract Dean, but it definitely makes them both feel better. Though, the green-eyed boy avoids asking him if he's okay, as if he knew that Cas wouldn't want him to – what is true, so Cas is thankful that Dean doesn't ask him this question. He also doesn't want to lie to Dean, and he wouldn't even lie to him, but he isn't okay and if it's really so obvious, then they don't have to ask him constantly if he's okay. Cas hates this as much as the others, if not even more. He's so exhausted, but the tea Missouri gave to him is helping him a bit – it's easier to fall asleep, when he drinks a cup of tea before he goes to bed. But the nightmares don't stop, so he doesn't sleep well and when he wakes up in the morning, he's just as tired as he was when he fell asleep the night before.

 

It continues to snow a lot, and watching the scurry of snow calms Cas down a little bit. He enjoys to sit by his window and just look outside and dwell on thoughts. He thinks about a lot of things. Mostly, he just wants to get lost in thoughts about Dean, but of course that doesn't work most of the time. Though, when he's able to focus solely on thoughts about the green-eyed boy, then he just lets his mind wander from Dean's lips to his hands to his hair to his voice and to the way he makes him feel.

 

Dean's lips just feel almost _too_ wonderful on his own lips and also on his skin. Cas doesn't know what he loves more – the slow drag of Dean's lips against his, or when the green-eyed boy plunges his tongue into his mouth, or when he maps out his skin with his mouth. Dean's hands are gentle and strong at the same time, and Cas doesn't fear Dean's touch anymore, in fact he longs for it – simply holding Dean's hand, or hugging him, or having Dean's hands on his body. Cas also loves the other way around, he loves to touch Dean and to run his fingers through his hair, relishes the feeling he has inside of him when the green-eyed boy is leaning into his touch. Dean's voice is Castiel's favorite sound – his laugh, his giggle, his speaking; Cas could listen to Dean all day, and even though he acts like he doesn't, he loves to hear Dean complimenting him. He doesn't believe himself what Dean is telling him – for example when Dean tells him that _he is art_ – but he knows that Dean believes everything he says and that's what matters to him.

 

But like already mentioned, he's hardly able to daydream about his boyfriend. Mainly, he starts to think about all of his – or their – problems and worries, and then he can't stop thinking about such things. Their biggest problems are clearly the situations with Alastair and John. No one has heard anything from Alastair in the past days, and the police didn't get in touch with them yet. On the one hand, it's really good to hear nothing from Alastair. On the other hand, it kind of worries them even more. They have absolutely no idea where he is, what he's up to, or what he's going to do next. And the situation with John – it just _sucks._ It's wearing them out, especially Dean and Sam.

 

Castiel has the feeling that maybe he'd feel a little bit better, if only he could eliminate the problem with John for a start. He can't really explain it. And he doesn't even know how the fuck he would manage to do that. What could he do or say that will change John Winchester's mind? Hell, he hasn't even met the man. Bobby, Dean and Sam know him best, and when they can't get through to John, why should Cas be able to? It's a silly thought. He'd just like to be useful and helpful, and to make Dean and Sam feel better. It'd make their whole situation better, if there wasn't the matter with John anymore.

 

To worsen his mood even more, he sees a familiar face when he goes grocery shopping. He just put a jar with peanut butter in his shopping basket and looks up again, when he sees someone at the end of the aisle and stops short. That someone is staring at him with wide eyes and as soon as they lock eyes, that person turns around and scurries away. It takes Castiel a few seconds to recognize the face he just saw, but then he's sure about who it was – Malachi. Confused, Cas looks around and walks down the aisle, looking around the corner and into the next aisle. But Malachi isn't there anymore, he probably already left the store. Cas starts to bite his bottom lip, still looking around like he expects Malachi to show up again.

 

Though, the question is – why did Malachi leave as soon as he saw him?

 

Sure, the didn't get along in high school, because Malachi belonged to Alastair's gang. They got into a few fights and Cas won all of them. He beat Malachi to a pulp more than once. But what did he think now? That Cas will attack him in the middle of a supermarket without any reason? He furrows his brow. There's nothing he can do about this right now, and he feels the sudden wish to see Dean and to tell him about this.

 

He finishes doing his shopping and walks home with a full bag, where he puts all the items in the fridge and into the cupboards. Then, he grabs his phone and texts Dean, asking if he's at Missouri's house. He only has to wait two minutes for Dean to reply. _Yes, I am. Wanna come over?_

 

_Yes. I'll be there soon._

 

_I could pick you up. Then you don't have to walk through the cold, babe._

 

A smile sneaks onto Castiel's lips, when he reads Dean's message. _Sounds good. Then, see you in a bit._

 

About 20 minutes later, he's sitting on the passenger seat of the Impala, next to Dean. They're holding hands and Cas just told the green-eyed boy about Malachi. Dean wrinkles his brow, stopping at a red light. “But why did he just leave?” he wonders.

 

“I don't know. It was weird. He was staring at me, as if he was shocked to see me. He didn't expect to meet me, but that doesn't explain why he basically fled out of the supermarket. I mean, I didn't expect to meet him of all things either.” Cas shrugs his shoulders. He's unable to make head or tail of this. And judging by the expression on Dean's face, the green-eyed boy can relate to that.

 

But there's also another question in Castiel's head. “Do you think that he's still in touch with Alastair?” he asks quietly, looking at Dean from the side.

 

Dean lets out a sigh. “We can't rule that out.” He gives Cas' hand a gentle sqeeze. “But we don't know for sure.”

 

“Yeah,” Cas says slowly. “Should we tell the others about this, or not?”

 

“Do you want to tell them?” Dean asks.

 

Cas thinks about that for a moment. “There's already so much else happening. And we don't know what this means. Maybe it doesn't mean anything...”

 

“So, that's a no, right?” Dean says, chuckling lightly.

 

“Yeah. I mean, there's already _enough_ happening. They shouldn't worry even more,” Castiel decides. Dean nods, biting his lip. “You know, they want to worry about you – about us.”

 

Cas raises his eyebrows at the green-eyed boy. “So?”

 

“I'm not saying that I like it, but we can't force them to stop. I mean, we're worrying about them, too.”

 

“I know,” Cas says. “I just... I really don't like it, when others are worrying about me.” He looks at their interlaced fingers. “I don't want to be a burden.”

 

“Me neither. But I think we should, I don't know, at least start accepting that they won't stop worrying about us.” Dean huffs a breath, running his thumb over the back of Castiel's hand.

 

Cas smiles at him. “And you think that you're not smart,” he mumbles, causing a faint blush to creep up Dean's neck. Dean lets out a quiet chuckle, but he doesn't say something to Cas' remark.

 

Though, they really don't tell the others about Malachi. Cas suspects that they both hope it doesn't mean anything that he met Malachi and that Malachi practically ran away as soon as he saw him. Later, when Cas is already lying in bed, he thinks that Malachi has always been a coward. So, that's probably the reason why he just turned around and left, when he saw Castiel.

 

But somehow, the encounter with Malachi brought their many problems home to Cas once again. And he really thinks the burden on their shoulders would get significantly lighter, if the situation – the problem – with John disappeared.

 

Castiel doesn't know when he makes the decision to try to talk to John Winchester, but on Friday he has another late shift at Missouri's shop and leaves the house earlier than usual. With an uneasy feeling somewhere in the pit of his stomach, he walks to the Winchester's house, the whole time thinking that this is probably a _pretty_ stupid idea.

 

When he's standing in front of the Winchester's house on the sidewalk, he shakes his head at himself. _Why the fuck should John Winchester even listen to him? What the fuck is he even going to say?_ While he walked here, Cas tried to think of something he could say to John, but he doesn't even know how he's supposed to start, even if John opens the door, let alone lets him inside. Nevertheless, Castiel finds himself walking up to the front porch of the house – though, a small part of him is actually hoping that John isn't home. He sighs. “Fucking hell,” he mutters under his breath and rings the bell.

 

 _Maybe he's really not home,_ Cas thinks for a split second, but then he hears heavy steps walking towards the door. Cas can't help straightening himself, when the door gets opened and he's facing a middle-aged man.

 

“Yeah?” he snaps at him, when a few moments have passed and Cas still didn't say something.

 

He swallows. “Hello! Mr Winchester?” he says.

 

The man nods slowly. “Yes.”

 

Cas holds out his hand for John Winchester to shake. “My name's Castiel Novak.”

 

John stares at Cas' hand with furrowed brow, making no move to shake it. Cas lowers his hand, clearing his throat a bit awkwardly. John lifts his gaze, grimly returning Cas' look. “I have no idea, who you are, or what you want, but I also don't care. Whatever you're selling, I'm not interested.”

 

Puzzled, Castiel stares at Dean's dad for a few seconds and then down at himself. He's just wearing a trenchcoat – that doesn't have to mean he's a door-to-door salesman. “I'm not selling anything,” he says hastily, since John gets ready to close the door again. “I'm... I'm a friend of Dean and Sam.”

 

Now it is John Winchester, who seems baffled. “You know my sons?” he asks suspiciously, and Castiel thinks that he must wonder what he wants from him.

 

Cas nods. “Yes, I do. Could I come in?”

 

“Why?” John asks gruffly.

 

“I wanted to talk with you,” Cas answers boldly, stepping closer. John is still standing in the doorway, looking at him dismissively. But then he huffs a breath, shrugging his shoulders and stepping aside. “I wouldn't know what you wanted to talk with me about, but please, make yourself at home.” Without looking at Cas, he turns around and walks down the hallway, entering the kitchen.

 

Cautiously, Cas enters the house and wants to take his trenchcoat off, but decides against it, since it's freezing in here, before he follows John into the kitchen. John just opened the fridge door and has already a beer bottle in the hand. He shoots Cas a questioning glance. “You want one?”

 

“No, thanks,” Castiel replies.

 

John just shrugs again, opening the beer bottle and putting the beer-bottle cap on the counter before sitting down at the kitchen table. Castiel notices that he's looking at him calculating now, and with much more interest. “You're a friend of Dean and Sam?” John says wonderingly, waving his hand at the other kitchen chairs to show Cas that he can sit down as well.

 

Cas keeps his eyes on John as he sits down at the other end of the table, so they're facing each other. He still doesn't know what he's supposed to say now – besides, he's also still surprised by John even letting him enter the house. He thought that he wouldn't get this far. But he's here now, they are here now, and John returns his look, taking a sip from his beer. He seems to wait for Cas to start talking, raising his eyebrows at him, so Cas opens his mouth, but no words are coming out of it. He presses his lips back together, slightly wrinkling his brow. _Okay, seriously. Where is he supposed to start? What should he say?_

 

“You said you wanted to talk with me, so say something,” John says, after another few moments of silence. “If not, you can leave right away. That is to say, you're waisting my time.”

 

Castiel feels his eyebrows shooting towards the ceiling in surprise. Though, he suppresses the urge to ask in what way John is spending his precious time. “Well...,” he starts, wondering how he should continue – he really doesn't want to say the wrong thing. From what Dean told him, it's very easy to _provoke_ John by saying the wrong thing.

 

“Let me guess,” John says all of a sudden, rolling his eyes. “You're here to talk me out of moving away.”

 

“Yes, that's indeed what I wanted to talk with you about.” Cas nods, swallowing. He knows the eye-roll was already a bad sign, but still he wants to try it at least. “Dean and Sam don't want to move away.”

 

“Yes, I know,” John nods, glaring at him. “But we are going to move away from here. And I can't believe that they're sending a random, weird looking stranger to our house to talk with me.”

 

Castiel looks down at himself, wrinkling his brow. _Weird looking? What's that supposed to mean?_ But he figures that's the least of his problems at the moment. “No one has sent me. I've decided to talk with you on my own. They don't even know that I'm here.”

 

John scoffs, taking another long sip from his beer. “Doesn't matter. We're still going to move again.”

 

“But why?” Cas asks. “What's the point of always moving around? Why not stay here, where things are good for your sons? Where things could be good for you as well, if you only didn't decline it that much.”

 

There is a frown on John's face by the time Castiel finished his last sentence. _Geez, did he already say the wrong thing?_ He's so not good at something like this.

 

“Listen, considering that we never met before and that I still have no idea who you really are, you're speaking quite frankly.”

 

Cas blinks at him for a few seconds. “Well, I thought you wouldn't like it either if I beat around the bush.” He shrugs his shoulders. “I know that we never met before and I also know that I have no right to tell you what to do. That's not why I'm here anyway.”

 

“And why are you here?” John asks roughly.

 

“I'm here because I care about Dean and Sam. And what you're about to do to them is going to harm them, and also your relationship with them. Either Dean is not going to move away with you and then Sam and he will be separated from one another and they're both going to hate you for that, or Dean is going to move away with Sam and you and then he'll be together with his brother but will be separated from me and his friends and Sam will know that Dean doesn't really want to be there and they're both going to hate you. Either way, they're both going to be unhappy and they will blame you for that.”

 

John is still scowling at him, pressing his lips together, but he doesn't say something. Cas lets out a sigh. “Their lives already got ruined when their mother died. But they still have a chance to turn it around. And they're well on the way to doing so – here, in this town.”

 

Abruptly, John gets up and wags his finger at Castiel. “Don't talk about something you know nothing about,” he snaps.

 

Cas gets up as well. “Believe me, I know what I'm talking about. My mother died when I was nine years old.” His voice has a bitter tone by now. “My relationship with my father changed after that, too. Sure, there were also other reasons, but the death of my mom started it.”

 

“Who exactly are you?” John asks, pressing his eyebrows together. “You said Dean will be separated from you and his friends, if he's going to move away as well. I thought you _are_ a friend of Dean and Sam.”

 

Castiel shakes his head slightly. “It's not up to me to tell you about this. It's not why I'm here. I'm here to tell you that you're about to make a big mistake. The relationship with your sons is in danger. One more thing – and forcing them to move away again could be that one thing – and you won't be able to fix it. Do you really want to look back in, let's say ten years, and realize that you should have done things differently? But then it's going to be too late, because I'm sure that Dean and Sam will already have broken with you, what means that you won't be talking to each other anymore, let alone be seeing each other. And you're going to regret your decisions and...”

 

“Get out,” John interrupts him quietly but with a menacing voice, glowering at him.

 

Cas doesn't need to be told twice. He leaves the kitchen, but then he turns around again, looking at John. “I just want you to think about it. Do you really want to be out of the picture in your sons' lives? Now, it's not too late to change and to make things right again.” He shrugs his shoulders halfheartedly, but when he sees the glare he's getting from John now, he does walk down the hall quickly and leaves the house.

 

When he steps into the cold December air and starts walking down the street, he takes a deep breath. On the way to Missouri's shop, Cas wonders if he just made a big mistake. Though, he can't find it in him to regret talking to John. Sure, maybe he didn't say everything he actually wanted to say and he also could have worded the things he did say differently. But all in all, he thinks he did quite well – apart from the fact that John threw him out of the house. Then again, Castiel also thinks he kind of expected John to react sharply. Still, there's an uncertain feeling inside of him. Cas has absolutely no idea if it was of any use that he talked to John. He doesn't know if he got actually through to him, and he thinks that it's actually more doubtful that he succeeded in doing so.

 

But he also figures that there's not much more he could have done. When he enters Missouri's shop, he decides that he can only wait now what John is going to do next. Either Castiel managed to achieve that John will finally come around, or he just managed to achieve that the situation will go from bad to worse.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“How was school? Did you get another A in a test?” Dean flashes Sam a grin before he looks back at the road, but he knows that his little brother doesn't return it. Sam is looking out of the window with a disgruntled expression on his face.

 

Dean just picked him up from school and they're on the way to Missouri's house now. Sam doesn't answer him, and he sighs. “Come on, man. Don't... don't be like that to me.”

 

Sam looks at him from the side for a long moment before looking away again. Dean doesn't know what he's supposed to do or to say. He's the big brother and it's his job to cheer his little brother up again when he's sad, but he doesn't know how. And he also doesn't know how the hell he's supposed to stay optimistic for Sammy, if he feels so fucking down himself. Biting the inside of his cheek, he parks in front of Missouri's house. Sam gets out of the car right away, starting to walk towards the front door, but then he stops. Dean follows him, stopping beside his brother and looking down at him questioningly.

 

“I've got an A in my latest Biology test,” Sam says quietly and gives Dean a small smile.

 

Dean nods, smiling back at Sam instantly. “That's great. Not that I'm expecting anything less from you, but still, it's pretty great.”

 

Sam lets out a chuckle, rolling his eyes at him halfheartedly, and they enter the house. “Do you want to watch a movie?” he asks. “I don't have any homework.”

 

“Sure,” Dean says, and the relief inside of him makes him feel a little bit better. “I'll get us something to eat, and you can choose a movie.”

 

Sam raises an eyebrow at him, but he doesn't say anything. It doesn't happen very often that Dean lets his brother choose a movie, and he probably knows that Dean lets him do this now to cheer him up.

 

Dean walks into the kitchen and gets some ice cream for them. When he goes into the living room, Sam is already sitting on the couch. Dean slumps down next to him, giving him a spoon and placing the ice cream between them.

 

“Dean, it's December. It's winter and it's cold. Who the hell eats ice cream _now?”_

 

“Apparently, Missouri does. And we do, too,” Dean answers smoothly. “What movie are we watching?” he asks, since the previews are still showing.

 

“ _The Mummy,”_ Sam says, sighing when Dean starts to eat the ice cream with relish.

 

But Dean knows that they're good again, at least for the moment. That'll have to do. They can spend the afternoon together and just watch some movies and talk about trivial things. It'll do them both good. Their problems aren't going to disappear all of a sudden, and maybe they just have to live from day to day at the moment. But that's fine. Somehow, they're going to make it. At least, they don't have to go through this on their own.

 

Missouri and Castiel have to work a couple more hours in her shop and then they'll have dinner together. Maybe Lucifer will come over as well. Bobby is accompanying Cas and Missouri, and he'll join them for dinner too. Until then Dean and Sam can enjoy some brotherly time. Besides, Sammy's smile seems genuine right now and that's something good. The others will be relieved as well later, when they see Sam like this – especially Bobby, who's feeling bad because he's not really able to help them, since John refuses to talk with him. But Dean already told Bobby that it's not his fault, when he apologized to him for being rude. It's nobody's but John's fault that they're in this kind of situation right now.

 

Dean and Sam finish watching _The Mummy,_ and then they start with _Casino Royale._ When the door bell rings, neither of them really thinks anything of it. Dean gets up, telling Sam to continue watching while he'll answer the door. Still with a small smile on his lips, he opens the front door. Dean doesn't know who he expected – maybe some of their friends, or even the mailman with a packet. But he definitely did not expect their father. For a moment, Dean just blinks at John.

 

“Hey, Dean,” John says.

 

“Dad, what... what are you doing here?” Dean asks wonderingly.

 

John scratches the stubble on his cheek. “Is Sam there?”

 

“Why?” Dean asks cautiously, stepping on the front porch and slowly pushing the door to behind him.

 

“Just wanted to know. Maybe you can tell him that I was here – later, I mean. I don't want to see Sam right now.”

 

“Why are you here?” Dean asks defensively. “When you don't even want to see your son?”

 

“No, you're misunderstanding me,” John says hastily. “It's not that I don't want to see Sam, it's just that it'd be easier this way.”

 

Dean creases his forehead in confusion. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

 

John sighs, looking around before pointing behind him. Only now, Dean notices the taxi that's parked by the side of the road, right behind the Impala. The taxidriver is waiting, glancing at them from time to time.

 

“I'm leaving for a while,” John explains, putting his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “I don't know when I'll be back.”

 

“Where are you going?” Dean wonders, even more confused.

 

“I don't know yet. Maybe Ohio. I still have the new job and the apartment there.”

 

“And what about us?” Dean asks carefully.

 

“You're staying here. I think I need to clear my mind, Dean. And I need some time alone for that.”

 

Dean is aware of his mouth hanging open as he stares at his father with wide eyes. “We're... we're not... are you saying we're not moving away?” he stammers eventually.

 

John nods. “Yes, that's what I'm saying.”

 

“But... _why?”_

 

There's an odd expression in John's eyes, and Dean isn't able to read it. “Would you look after Sammy?” John asks. “Take care of him, and also yourself. And of the car as well.” He chuckles slightly, looking over his shoulder at the Impala. “I'll get in touch with you, when I'm back, okay Dean?” he says quietly.

 

Dean doesn't know what to think of this, but he finds himself nodding. “Yeah, sure,” he says, almost absentmindedly. His mind is racing, trying to comprehend what's happening right now.

 

“Okay. I'll see you then.” John nods once, turning around and walking towards the waiting taxi. He briefly waves at Dean, who's far too perplex to wave back at his father. John doesn't seem to mind, though. He just gets in the car and the taxidriver sets of immediately. Dean watches the taxi driving down the street and turning left at the corner.

 

 _Well, what the fuck was that?_ he thinks, running his fingers through his hair. His mind is still trying to process John's words, and the realization _that they are not going to move_ is only slowly trickling through him. He turns around and enters the house again, quietly closing the front door behind him. For a moment, he's just standing in the hallway, furrowing his brow and looking at himself in the mirror on the wall. A sceptical smile is tugging at the corners of his mouth. Dean doesn't know whether he should start laughing, or start shaking his head and sighing deeply. He huffs a breath, and something in his mind clicks into place.

 

What the hell is he still standing here? He has to talk to Sam! And Dean can't wait to see a sceptical smile on his brother's face as well.

 


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short chapter, but I promise the next chapters are going to be longer again :)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading my story. I can't stress enough how much it truly means to me. 
> 
> ~ KC

“And he didn't tell you any reason why he changed his mind?” Billie asks Dean – they just had the chance to tell her about the latest incidents. Her words stir something inside of Castiel and he swallows, averting his gaze. Luckily, no one notices it.

 

“No,” Dean answers. “I'm still just as surprised as you.” He lets out a chuckle, sounding utterly relieved and also still a little bit confused.

 

Cas bites his lip, pretending he's totally interested in Gabriel's next throw. He watches the bowling ball rolling down the lane and hitting 7 out of 10 pins. Gabe punches the air before he gets another bowling ball for his second throw. This time, the ball goes in the gutter and he grimaces while the others are laughing. On the lane next to them, Charlie just scored a strike, giving Gadreel a high five. Dorothy, who's sitting next to Cas, gives her thumbs up and Charlie blows her a kiss in return.

 

Since they are so many people, Missouri booked two lanes for them. Cas is playing at one lane together with Dean, Billie, Gabriel, Dorothy, Missouri and Meg. Charlie, Kevin, Bobby, Garth, Lucifer, Gadreel and Sam are playing at the other lane. Castiel is currently in the second place behind Missouri, who's leading at the moment and claiming that she has never bowled before – no one is sure if they should believe her or not.

 

Dean puts his chin on Cas' shoulder as they watch both of Dorothy's balls going in the gutter. “You're okay?” the green-eyed boy mutters. Cas turns his head to him and Dean presses a kiss to his cheek.

 

“Yeah. Why you're asking?”

 

“I don't know. You fall silent from time to time. And you look really tired.”

 

Cas nods. “Well, I'm just tired,” he says quietly, pressing a kiss to the corner of Dean's mouth.

 

Dean opens his mouth to reply, when Gabe calls his name. “Dean! It's your turn – I mean if you're able to cope with being separated from Cas for a few moments.” A big grin spreads across Gabriel's face. Dean gets up, flipping him off before taking a bowling ball. With apparent ease, Dean scores a strike and turns back around to them, grinning widely at Gabriel, who scoffs and rolls his eyes at him.

 

“Show-off,” Gabe mutters, and the others chuckle.

 

Castiel returns Dean's grin before he gets up as well, since it's his turn now. While he chooses a bowling ball, he looks over to his brother, whose first ball goes in the gutter. Lucifer notices Cas looking at him. “Don't you dare to laugh,” he says, pointing a finger at him.

 

“I didn't do anything,” Cas says, taking a ball. “I was just thinking that I could easily outdo you.”

 

Lucifer scowls at him, taking another ball and trying it again. This time he hits 6 out of 10 pins. Castiel chuckles, throwing his first ball and hitting 8 out of 10 pins. Dean whistles behind him and when Cas takes his second ball, he winks at the green-eyed boy. He actually manages to hit the remaining two pins, scoring a spare since he knocked down all of the pins with two balls. Lucifer grumbles something and sits back down next to Sam, who's cheering Cas.

 

“That was good,” Meg says, fist-bumping Cas when he walks past her to sit back down next to Dean, who instantly slings his arm around his shoulders again. Castiel automatically leans against the green-eyed boy. Unfortunately, the topic they're talking about is still John Winchester and his sudden change of mind.

 

Cas hasn't told anybody, not even Dean, that he talked to John just a few hours before he went to Missouri's house to tell Dean that he'll leave for a while. Castiel thinks that he has to be the reason for John's change of mind – what else could have happened in the hours between their short conversation and the moment John knocked on Missouri's front door? What else could have made John change his mind in general? Cas can't think of anything else. Still, he doesn't want the others to know that he has talked to John, at least not yet. He doesn't even really know the reason why. Maybe it's because it could still backfire at any moment – John could simply change his mind once again. They don't even know yet if it's a good thing that John wants to leave for a while to clear his mind. They don't know yet what it's good for.

 

“This was an awesome idea,” Dorothy laughs, slumping down next to Castiel after she finally hit 4 out of 10 pins with two balls. Cas smiles widely at her, glad that she's having this much fun, even though she's not good at bowling.

 

Actually, it was Bobby's idea to go bowling with everyone. He's staying for Christmas – and everyone is very happy about this, especially Dean and Sam – and he thought this way they could get everybody together, or at least the most of them. Pamela, Benny and Balthazar have to work today; it's December 23th, and even though it's not Christmas yet, this afternoon and evening, where they go bowling and have dinner together, are their Christmas gift from everybody to everybody. At the end, everyone is going to give money so they can pay for the fun (and the food).

 

Billie comes over to them again after she hit 6 out of 10 pins. “So, what are you going to do now?” she asks Dean, who shrugs. “Well, in any case we can stay at Missouri's place.” He shoots her a grateful look as he gets up, and she smiles warmly at him. “I mean I'm insisting on paying rent and she's against it at the moment, and that's a minor issue. But apart from that...” He chooses a bowling ball and throws it, hitting 7 out of 10 pins.

 

“I told you that you don't have to pay rent,” Missouri remarks immediately.

 

“But I want to,” Dean replies, choosing his second ball. “And I'm able to pay rent. So, why shouldn't I?” His second ball goes in the gutter and he groans in frustration. Cas goes over to him, kissing him on the cheek and taking a ball. Altogether, he hits 7 out of 10 pins.

 

Missouri just shakes her head at Dean, getting up and throwing her first ball, hitting 9 out of 10 pins. The second ball misses the last pin by mere inches.

 

“What about your house?” Gabriel asks, while watching Missouri's throws with a pained expression on his face. A smile quirks up the corners of his mouth, when her second ball doesn't hit the last pin.

 

Dean shrugs his shoulders, rubbing his neck. “Maybe we're going to sell it. I don't know yet.”

 

Garth comes over to them. “Hey, do you eat these?” He points at a bowl of nachos.

 

“Help yourself,” Meg says. “You're okay, Clarence?” She looks at Castiel, cocking her head to the side.

 

A little surprised, Cas returns her look. “Yes,” he says. "Just tired.”

 

She raises her eyebrows at him, clearly wanting to say something more, but she gets distracted by Sam's cheering. Everyone is looking at the other lane and Sam turns around to them. “I scored a strike!”

 

“Awesome!” Dean says, getting up to ruffle his little brother's hair, who slaps his hand away, but Castiel sees the grin on Sam's face.

 

He watches them with a smile, though he ignores Meg looking at him questioningly. She scoots closer to him, so she's sitting right next to him, where Dean sat just a few moments prior. “You really look tired,” she says quietly.

 

“I don't sleep very well at the moment,” Castiel says just as quietly, giving her a small smile. “It's not a big deal.”

 

“My best friend looks like shit and he's telling me that it's not a big deal?” Meg presses her lips as well as her eyebrows together. “You know that I hate it, when you do this.”

 

Castiel lets out a chuckle, shaking his head. “Let's focus on the holiday. It's Christmas.”

 

Meg returns his look unconvincedly, but then she shrugs her shoulders, leaning against him. “Whatever my unicorn wants,” she mutters. Cas casually slings his arm around her waist.

 

He really doesn't want to think about how bad he's actually feeling right now – not when he's having fun, not when he gets distracted by the excitement around him. But yes, he does feel pretty bad to be honest, and his nightmares are still a huge problem. He looks over at Lucifer, who's laughing about something Kevin just said to him. His brother looks tired as well – not as tired as Castiel, but still – and it's actually even worse, because it's Castiel's fault. He's screaming in his sleep again... waking Lucifer up, who has to jolt him awake. It's enough to only think about it, and Cas' guilty conscience pipes up. He bites his lip and looks away, accidentally meeting Dean's eyes, who's coming back to their lane since it's his turn again.

 

Dean throws his two balls, hitting 9 out of 10 pins and pecking Cas on the cheek, when they walk past each other. Castiel's first ball hits 5 out of 10 pins, but his second ball goes in the gutter. He grimaces, grinning sheepishly and sitting back down next to Dean, who takes his hand right away and intertwines their fingers. Cas looks at him and hates to see the worry in these green eyes, knowing he's one of the reasons why it's there in the first place. Everyone is worried about him, but Dean and Lucifer are worried about him the most, since they're the only ones who really know what's going on inside of him at the moment.

 

Cas kisses Dean gently, ignoring everyone else around them for a few seconds, even the loud music that's blasting out of the speakers that are attached to the top corners of the hall, right below the ceiling. The green-eyed boy kisses him back just as gentle, but he pulls him a little bit closer. Castiel smiles against Dean's lips, kissing him once more before turning around again and looking at Gabriel, who's about to throw his second ball. Dean presses another soft kiss to the side of his neck, and Cas can feel him smiling against his skin.

 

No one is really surprised when Missouri and Charlie win, and Dorothy kisses her girlfriend on the cheek – she comes in last, and so does Kevin, but they both don't seem to mind. Though, that doesn't prevent Gabe from making fun of them.

 

“It's the taking part that counts!” Dorothy says confidently. “And didn't you come last but one?”

 

Charlie starts to giggle, and Gabriel scratches his chin. “Well, that's true,” he says. “I'm not really in the position to make fun of you, am I?”

 

Everyone around him shakes their head before they start laughing out loud. Afterwards, they go to a nearby restaurant, and it seems to Cas that time flies – just now they got the menus and ordered their food, and suddenly they finish eating the dessert and leave the restaurant again. It's freezing cold outside and they all wrap themselves tightly in their coats. Cas buries his hands in the pockets of his trenchcoat until it's time to farewell the others. He isn't sure of this – maybe he's only imagining it –, but he has the feeling that they all hug him for a little while longer than they hug the others. But he doesn't say anything about it.

 

What did Dean tell him? Maybe they should start accepting that the others won't stop worrying about them – well, he's not wrong about this. Castiel hugs the green-eyed boy last, and Dean wraps his arms tightly around him. For a moment, Cas hides his face in the crook of Dean's neck before he lets go of him. Dean is smiling at him, and he smiles back, following Lucifer to his car.

 

On Christmas Eve, Castiel and Lucifer stay at home, having a cozy evening together. They make dinner – potato salad and chicken nuggets – and watch _Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer._ On December 25th, they drive over to Missouri's house for dinner together with Dean, Sam, Missouri and Bobby. It's all relaxed and without any hurry, and no one wastes much thought on John or even Alastair. Though, Cas wouldn't be able to do so anyway, since his nightmares and the anxiety the upcoming _anniversary_ causes at the moment occupy most of his thinking. He tries to focus on his friends, on Dean, and solely on the holiday and not what he connects the holiday with usually.

 

He knows that going bowling saved the trouble of buying gifts for everyone, still he got one for Dean. After dinner and cleaning up the kitchen, he takes Dean's hand and they leave the living room inconspicuously, while the others are engrossed in conversation. The green-eyed boy shoots him a questioning look as they go upstairs and into Missouri's mini library. Cas hasn't been in here for a while and he notices that Missouri got a new potted plant, a few new shelves, and certainly quite a few new books. But that's not why they're here.

 

“What are we doing?” Dean asks, a smile playing on his lips.

 

“I've got something for you,” Cas says.

 

“I thought we said no gifts,” Dean says slowly. “Because we already went bowling...”

 

“It's just a small thing.” Cas shrugs his shoulders. “And I only made it with minimal effort and it's not even wrapped, so maybe it doesn't actually count?”

 

Dean chuckles. “Okay, fine. What did you get me?”

 

Cas flashes the green-eyed boy a relieved grin before he gets something out of the pocket of the thin jacket he's wearing over his shirt. He holds it out for Dean, who takes it and looks at it for a few seconds and then looks back up at Cas, a questioning expression on his face. “A USB memory stick?” he asks, pressing his eyebrows together. “Um, thanks?”

 

Castiel bites his lip, trying not to start laughing. He shakes his head. “You're very welcome. And it's not the USB stick itself what's my gift for you. It's more what's on that USB stick.”

 

“And what did you put on it?”

 

“Songs,” Cas answers. “It's a mix of my favorite songs and your favorite songs. I made a playlist for us.”

 

“You know my favorite songs?” Dean asks softly.

 

“Yeah, of course. I mean it's a tie between Led Zeppelin's _Ramble on_ and _Traveling Riverside Blues,_ but there are also other songs on there that you love.”

 

He can't read the expression in Dean's eyes for a few seconds, but then the green-eyed boy wraps his arms around him and hugs him tightly, even lifting him up a little bit. Cas hugs him back, smiling against Dean's shoulder. “I guess you like it?” he says quietly. Dean presses a kiss to the side of his neck. “Love it,” he answers. “It's awesome – although it makes my gift for you seem a little silly.”

 

Castiel lets go of Dean, looking him in the eye. “Your gift for me?” he repeats wonderingly. “Didn't you just remind me that we said no gifts?”

 

Dean shrugs his shoulders, grinning at him. “You didn't stick to it either,” he reminds him now.

 

Cas nods. “True. So, what did you get me?”

 

Dean bites his bottom lip. “It's downstairs, in a pocket of my jacket. Wait a second.” He quickly hurries downstairs and just a couple of moments later, he comes back upstairs, where Cas waited patiently. He smiles at Dean, who seems nervous all of a sudden.

 

“I won't think it's silly,” Cas says seriously. “I mean, come on. My gift for you was really sappy. That amount of cheesiness is hard to top, don't you think?”

 

Dean glances at him, hiding something in his hand behind his back, smiling sheepishly. “Okay,” he decides. “But please don't laugh. Missouri mentioned it incidentally, when I talked to her about this, since I didn't know what to get you, and I just thought it would be a good idea...”

 

“I won't laugh,” Cas promises, looking at Dean curiously now. What did the green-eyed boy get him?

 

Dean stops hiding his hand behind his back, but whatever he's holding is so small that his fist covers it completely. Cas steps a little closer, tilting his head a bit. Dean lets out a sigh, shaking his head. “Well, it's something small and I also didn't wrap it, so it doesn't count as well,” he states.

 

“Okay,” Cas says, chuckling slightly. “By the way, you're really cute, when you're nervous.”

 

Dean mutters something under his breath, shooting him a dirty look. “Just don't laugh,” he grumbles.

 

Castiel bites his lip, suddenly afraid that he _will_ start laughing, even though he promised he wouldn't. He doesn't want to hurt Dean in any way. “Okay,” he repeats, nodding.

 

Dean opens his hand, still a bit reluctantly, and Castiel recognizes a nail varnish bottle. Since Dean is holding it out for him, he takes it from him and stares at it in disbelief. The sudden rush of warmth in his chest brings back a memory – he's standing in Missouri's shop and she just told him to take a pick, because he helped her cleaning up. Back then, he didn't work in her shop yet.

 

“ _Did you find something?“ Missouri appears next to him and he jumps a bit. He didn't hear her. He didn't even realize how lost in thought he was._

 

“ _Oh, that's a lovely color,” she comments, eyeing the nail polish that's still in his hand. “I like green.“_

 

“ _Me too,” he mumbles, wrinkling his forehead. Does he? He has never thought about it. He sees green every day, with having a forest surrounding the town. He's just used to this color, to the different shades of green in the trees and the bushes. But suddenly, he_ notices _green. He_ sees _it. He doesn't understand it, it's just a simple color. It's nothing special, right?_

 

Wow – how wrong he has been. And how fascinating it is that he still remembers this moment so clearly. It was the day he met Dean for the first time, and he already had a crush on him then, but he didn't understand what was going on inside of him. All he knew was how fucking intriguing he thought Dean's eyes are, and when he found the green nail polish he just had to take it, because it reminded him of Dean's green eyes. And now, he's holding such a green nail polish in his hand again.

 

He looks back up at Dean, who's waiting a little impatiently for a reaction from him. “What do you think?” he asks now.

 

A smile spreads across Castiel's face. “I... I love it. Thank you.” He steps closer, wrapping his arms around Dean's neck and kissing him. Dean puts his hands almost automatically on his waist and his back, pressing him closer and kissing him back. “Really?”

 

“Really,” Cas whispers, gently kissing the green-eyed boy again. “Merry Christmas.”

 

“Merry Christmas,” Dean says, smiling widely at him. “Come on, let's go back downstairs before the others start to wonder where we are, or what we're doing.”

 

Cas rolls his eyes halfheartedly, but he takes Dean's hand and puts the nail polish in the pocket of his jacket – he's already intending to use it, and the thought alone is enough to put another smile on his face.

 

The next day, Bobby leaves and it only dampens their moods ever so slightly. Of course, they are sad but even Sam is saying that Bobby couldn't have stayed forever. Before he sets off, he tells them to get in touch with him more regularly, and to call as soon as they hear something from John. He also wants them to call, if there's a problem. He doesn't have to drive here every time something inconvenient happens, but he'd just like to know about it. And if there's another big problem, he can be here in no time.

 

“We appreciate that,” Dean says, grinning. Bobby rolls his eyes at the green-eyed boy, but he's smiling, waving one last time at them before getting in his car. They wave back, watching as he drives down the street until he's out of sight.

 

Dean lets out a sigh, when Sam and Missouri turn around and enter the house again. Castiel leans against him and for a while, they're standing on Missouri's front porch in silence. Then, Cas looks at Dean from the side, nudging him. “You're okay?”

 

The green-eyed boy nods, a smile touching the corners of his mouth. “Yeah. I'm okay. I mean, it's sad that Bobby has to leave again, but I'm feeling okay.”

 

Castiel returns Dean's smile, nodding. “That's good.”

 

“What about you?”

 

Cas' smile fades a little, and he looks down the street again. He shrugs his shoulders once. “Tomorrow is the anniversary,” he mumbles, looking down at his shoes now.

 

“I know,” Dean says quietly. Before he can say something more, they get interrupted by Missouri, who's calling their names. They briefly look at each other, and Castiel takes Dean's hand, pulling him along. They enter the house and find Missouri and Sam in the kitchen. Missouri put four cups of hot chocolate on the table; Sam is already drinking his. Cas and Dean sit down next to him, and Cas wraps his hands around the warm cup, returning Missouri's look. She sits down at the table as well.

 

“You haven't heard anything from the police either, right?” she asks them, and they shake their heads.

 

“But I also haven't heard anything from Alastair,” Dean says, still glancing at Cas with worry in his eyes.

 

Missouri purses her lips. “The police is searching for him, and eventually they will find him,” she says determinedly.

 

“He's probably actually keeping a low profile,” Sam says, taking a sip from his hot chocolate. Dean nods at his little brother's words, but Cas knows that he's still looking at him worriedly out from the corner of his eye. He sighs internally.

 

After another cup of hot chocolate and listening to some Christmas music, Dean drives Castiel home. Again, they're holding hands, and Cas stares out of the window at the passing houses, though a little absentmindedly. They don't talk during the drive and when Dean parked in front of his house, they keep quiet for a few more moments.

 

Dean gives his hand a squeeze, and Cas turns his head to the green-eyed boy. He feels weird. There's a strange feeling inside of him, and he doesn't know what it means. There's anxiety and a certain numbness in the pit of his stomach, but also something else. He returns Dean's look and swallows.

 

“It's okay,” Dean says quietly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

 

Cas shakes his head. “No, I'm just... I'm going to be glad, when tomorrow is over,” he mutters.

 

Dean nods slowly. “Do you want me to stay?”

 

“You don't have to,” Cas says, still trying to understand what's going on inside of him. His mind seems so _fragile_ all of a sudden, and he's sure it has to do with tomorrow, but he doesn't really know what it means. He's just feeling so bad overall that he can't fiure out individual emotions that are whirling around in his head.

 

“I want to. It's no problem. I'll call Sam and Missouri, and let them know.”

 

Cas takes a deep breath, still looking Dean in the eye. “Okay,” he says, finding himself on that clearing again, but something's off and that's disturbing him, especially because he doesn't know what exactly is wrong.

 

“Okay,” Dean says, flashing him a smile and getting out of the car.

 

Slowly, Castiel follows him and gets his keys out of the pocket of his trenchcoat. When he opens the front door, he looks at the green nail polish on his fingernails and something tugs painfully at his heartstrings. They enter the house, and his throat ripples as he swallows. He takes his trenchcoat off without looking at Dean, hanging it on the coat rack and trying to breathe steadily.

 

Again, he remembers the day when he first met Dean. He remembers how he found the nail polish and he also remembers the walk home from Missouri's shop after it. Cas remembers the confusing thoughts in his head. They were so confusing, because they were so calming and soothing, and he hadn't had such thoughts for a very, very long time back then. He already knew they had something to do with a certain green-eyed boy, but he was in denial, since he thought he couldn't allow himself to feel like this. Though by this time, Castiel knows that he has changed his mind about one thing in the last months – he'd rather drown in Dean Winchester's eyes than in whiskey.

 

But now, he's starting to wonder how that's supposed to be fair.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Dean is lying on his back on the bed in the guestroom of the Novak's house. With a frown, he stares at the dark ceiling. Castiel got more and more distant in the last hours. Of course, Dean knows what's going on, but still – it's unnerving. He has no idea what to expect from tomorrow. It's probably going to be even worse, but what does that actually mean?

 

More than anything, Dean wants to help the blue-eyed boy. Though, he doesn't know _how._ Everything he says or does could only make it even worse, and that's the last thing he wants right now. But how is he supposed to help Cas? He doesn't have any experience with this kind of stuff. Castiel had anxiety attacks in the presence of him, but that's it.

 

Biting his lip, he scratches his chin. Cas told him _that it's easier to breathe, when he's around._ He's a reason why Cas was able to calm down again before. Maybe it's enough for the blue-eyed boy if he's just there...

 

With a sigh, Dean folds back the blanket and gets up. He feels a headache starting somewhere behind his eyes. As quietly as possible, he opens the door and closes it behind him before he walks down the hallway and downstairs. He hoped that Lucifer would still be up, and he's relieved when he finds Castiel's brother sitting at the table in the kitchen.

 

Lucifer looks up, when Dean enters the room. For the first time, Dean notices the lines on Lucifer's face that make him appear older than he actually is – he's only a couple years older than Dean and Cas. Right now, he seems far too tired, and Dean thinks that he feels exactly like Lucifer is looking – namely like shit.

 

“Why aren't you asleep?” Lucifer asks, when Dean sits down across from him.

 

“I could ask you the same,” Dean says.

 

Lucifer huffs a joyless laugh. “Yeah.”

 

“Can I ask you something?” Dean wonders. He doesn't want to overstep any boundaries. But with who else could he talk about this?

 

“Sure,” Lucifer replies, returning his look questioningly.

 

“How bad is tomorrow going to be?”

 

A shadow flashes over Lucifer's face at the question. He lets out a deep sigh. “It's always been pretty bad,” he says, shrugging his shoulders tiredly.

 

Dean swallows, running his fingers through his hair and looking around.

 

“Is it too much for you?” Lucifer wonders. “Because I could understand that,” he adds hastily, when Dean quickly looks back at him with wide eyes. “It's a lot and it's not easy. I don't know how much he has told you by now. I don't know if you've actually seen his scars, or...”

 

“I've seen his scars,” Dean says quietly, but with a brittle voice. “And it's not too much. It's just... I want to help him, but I don't know how.”

 

Lucifer nods slowly. “I'm just saying that it's okay if it was too much.”

 

“Maybe it is actually too much,” Dean says, pressing his eyebrows together. “But it's worth it. _He_ is worth it.”

 

“Do you love him, Dean?” Lucifer asks with a low voice.

 

Dean returns his look without saying something. After a few moments, he nods. “Yeah,” he breathes.

 

“I think he's reciprocating. But you know what that means, right?”

 

“What?”

 

“If you left now, it'd break him even more.”

 

“I'm not going to leave,” Dean says determinedly, and with his normal voice again. “Like I said, he's worth it. And he means a lot to me. I don't want to lose him.”

 

Lucifer shoots him a grateful look, and Dean doesn't know why. “You know, when you two started dating – officially, I mean – I wasn't exactly against it. But let's say, I was _wary._ I didn't know what this relationship would do to him.”

 

“And now?” Dean asks cautiously, furrowing his brow.

 

“Hey, you're allowed to be here.” Lucifer chuckles slightly. “No seriously, I see how much you're doing my little brother good, and that's all that matters to me. When he's with you, when you are there,... I haven't seen him like this since our mother died – _carefree,_ somehow.”

 

“But I'm afraid of doing the wrong thing, of making a mistake and making it even worse and more difficult for him,” Dean admits quietly, tapping on the table surface with his fingertips.

 

“Believe me, I know that feeling,” Lucifer says, wrinkling his brow. “The truth is, a lot of things could trigger him. Sometimes there's nothing you could do to prevent him from getting triggered. The important thing then is to be there for him. I think that's the only thing you can really do.”

 

“I just don't want him to stop trusting me,” Dean says. “We've come so far already. One thing could ruin it, and I really don't want that.”

 

“Tell him about it. Explain it to him. You're together in this relationship, Dean. It's not only about how he is feeling, it's also about how you are feeling.”

 

Again, Dean nods at Lucifer's words. “You're right. We're already talking a lot. This relationship wouldn't work without communication, I think.”

 

“Communication is very important,” Lucifer agrees quietly. Then, he sighs, glancing at the clock on the microwave. “We should go to bed and get some sleep.”

 

“Yeah,” Dean says, feeling even more tired all of a sudden. He gets up and wants to leave the kitchen, but Lucifer says something again.

 

“Hey, Dean?”

 

He turns around and returns Lucifer's look. “What?”

 

“Tomorrow is going to be as bad as it is. Maybe Castiel should wake up and have something, I don't know, to smile about.”

 

“And what?” Dean wonders, putting his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants (that are actually a pair of Castiel that the blue-eyed boy burrowed him earlier).

 

“You,” Lucifer replies simply. “Or waking up to you to be exact.”

 

Dean stares at Cas' brother with wide eyes. “Are you saying I can...?”

 

“Yes. You can sleep in Cas' room.” Lucifer turns off the light in the kitchen and walks past him and towards the stairs before he turns around to him once more. “But just sleeping, okay?”

 

Dean nods frantically. “Yeah, sure.” He ignores the heat on his face. Thankfully, it's dark enough in the hallway so Lucifer isn't able to see him blushing. He quietly follows him upstairs.

 

“Good night,” Lucifer says and enters his room.

 

“Night,” Dean says, carefully opening Castiel's bedroom door and slipping inside. It's also dark in here, and he can only see the outline of Cas' body under the blanket.

 

A smile is tugging at the corners of Dean's mouth as he's slipping under the covers. He's trying to move as quietly and delicately as possible, so he doesn't wake the blue-eyed boy. Slowly, he scoots closer to Cas and puts his arm over his side. Cas stirs a little in his sleep, but he doesn't seem to wake up. Dean lets out a quiet sigh, closing his eyes.

 

Lucifer is right. They should get some sleep – tomorrow is probably going to be fucking exhausting. This is the last thing that Dean thinks before he drifts off to sleep, and when he wakes up the next morning and realizes that he's lying alone in bed, he wonders if it was some kind of foreshadowing.

 

He blinks and looks around – maybe Castiel is still there, somewhere in the room – but no. Dean is actually alone in Cas' bedroom. He sits up straight and looks out of the window. It must have snowed again sometime during the night, because the blanket of snow that's covering everything outside seems even thicker and heavier. Outside... it's still dark outside. With a feeling in his stomach as if he just missed a step on his way downstairs, even though he's still sitting in bed, Dean has a look at the alarm clock on Cas' nightstand.

 

5 am.

 

There's a clicking sound in his head. _Fuck._ It's 5 am.

 

_Where is Castiel?_

 

Dean stands up so fast that he sprawls and his body collides painfully with the hard floor. He groans, cursing and getting up again. _Maybe Cas just went to the bathroom,_ he thinks, and leaves the room, crossing the hallway and knocking at the bathroom door. For a few seconds, he just stands there and breathes hard, waiting for an answer that doesn't come. He knocks again, although he knows already that Cas isn't in there. Nevertheless, he tries to open the door that swings open as soon as he turns the door knob. The bathroom is dark and empty – and Dean has the feeling that it looks the same inside of him.

 

“Dean, what are you doing?” Lucifer just came out of his bedroom, trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes.

 

“Have you seen Cas?” Dean asks, the words stumbling out of his mouth far too quickly, and he's surprised that Lucifer even understood what he said.

 

“Wha-? No, why? What's going on?” Lucifer creases his forehead in confusion.

 

“I woke up and Cas wasn't there. And he also isn't in the bathroom,” Dean says.

 

For a long moment, Lucifer just stares at him, but then he swallows, walking past Dean and looking into Cas' bedroom and the bathroom himself, finding them both empty and without a trace of his little brother.

 

“Maybe he's downstairs,” Lucifer mutters, though Dean can hear the doubt in his voice.

 

But he follows Lucifer downstairs, his heart hammering in his chest like crazy. They look into the living room and the kitchen, but they're empty and dark as well. Dean's heart drops to somewhere in his stomach region. Suddenly, there's a lump in his throat.

 

Lucifer turns around to him and judging by the expression on his face, they have reasons enough to be scared shitless of the fact that Castiel isn't there anymore. 

 


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It made me very happy to write this chapter :D hope you enjoy it as well!
> 
> ~ KC

“ _Hey, Charlie? Is Cas there?”_

 

“ _Garth, have you heard anything from Castiel?”_

 

“ _Missouri? Here is Dean. I just wanted to know if Cas called you? Or is he there?”_

 

“ _Hi, Pamela, it's Lucifer. I wanted to know if you heard anything from Cas?”_

 

For about 30 minutes, Dean and Lucifer call all their friends and ask if anyone knows where Castiel is right now. But no one has heard anything from the blue-eyed boy, therefore no one knows where he is at the moment.

 

Dean is running his fingers through his hair permanently, and he knows that it's sticking up at odd angles by now, though he couldn't care less about this. He looks at Lucifer with a vacant expression, who's sunk down on one of the chairs around the kitchen table and is kneading his temples, as if he had a headache. Dean's headache intensified during the last half an hour; it's a throbbing pain deep inside of his skull that feels like it's going to burst any second. Lucifer doesn't look like he's feeling any better. It's far too obvious that they both aren't able to think straight. And yet, they have to keep a cool head, when they want to find Castiel soon...

 

“Where could he be?” Dean asks quietly, but it's still too loud. The words echo in his head, mixing with all the questions and thoughts that are already in there. Anger and worry are flashing through him, again and again and again – he couldn't say which emotion is stronger. But does it even matter? _They need to find Cas._

 

Though, they don't even know when he left. Dean didn't notice that Cas got up and left the room, let alone the house. He was so tired and fast asleep, once he fell asleep. And now, Cas is gone and he doesn't answer their calls and he didn't even leave a note, saying where he's going...

 

“It's not your fault,” Lucifer says, finally looking at him. “It was his decision to leave without letting us know.”

 

“But where did he go?” Dean says, completely ignoring Lucifer's remark. Nothing he says will make the guilty conscience inside of Dean go away.

 

“I guess he wants to be alone,” Lucifer answers tiredly, rubbing his neck. “That's why he left and no one has heard anything from him.”

 

Almost dumbfounded, Dean stares at Castiel's big brother. “He can't just disappear like this.”

 

“I'm not saying that it's good, or... or that I agree with what he did. It's certainly not okay. He knew how much we would worry. But maybe he needs some time alone... to think... or,... I don't know.” Lucifer shrugs his shoulders a little helplessly. “You have to understand how difficult this day is for him, how many unpleasant and bad memories and feelings it brings back every year.”

 

Dean knows that he isn't angry at Lucifer, and he doesn't even want to project his anger onto him, and he also knows that Cas' brother is right. He turns around, staring out of the window and at the hedge of the neighbors that has a thick layer of snow on top of it. If his head weren't hurting this much, maybe then he would be able to hear himself think... _think... maybe Cas needs some time alone... to think..._ why, yes. That's it!

 

“You're right,” he says a bit absentmindedly, running his fingers through his hair one last time.

 

“What do you mean?” Lucifer asks, sitting up and looking at him quizzically. He seems to notice Dean's sudden change of demeanor.

 

“I know where Castiel is,” Dean says. “You said that he needs time to think and that he wants to be alone... and he showed me a place once where he goes, when he wants to be alone and just think.”

 

“And you think he went there now as well?”

 

“Yes. I mean – where else could he be? In any case, it's worth a shot. I'll go there and search for him.” Dean leaves the kitchen and grabs his jacket from the coat rack, putting his phone in his pocket. “And I'll let you know, when I found him. To be on the safe side, you stay in contact with the others, if Cas is going to get in touch with someone, okay?”

 

Lucifer nods. “Be careful, Dean.” He opens the front door for him. “And call as soon as you found him. Maybe he'll come home by himself, and then I'll let you know as well.”

 

“Okay.” Dean swallows, stepping out on the front porch. “Till later then,” he says, hurrying off.

 

He doesn't know for sure if Castiel will actually be there, but he has to check it, at least. Though, he also doesn't know where else he could search for the blue-eyed boy, if he's actually not there. Cas just has to be there. It's his thinking spot, when he wants to be alone and have his peace. He just has to be there.

 

_Please, let him be there..._

 

Dean runs through the town to the place where Cas and he entered the forest after he has told the blue-eyed boy that Lucifer had told him accidentally about his past. It takes him almost 15 minutes to find the approximate spot, and then he just stands there at the edge of the forest for a moment, bent-forward and breathing hard. He ran here so fast that his lungs feel like they're going to rupture now, and he feels too warm, even though it started to snow again and an icy wind is nipping at his exposed skin.

 

He stares at the bare trees, trying to catch his breath, and his thoughts are tumbling over each other in his head. Dean licks his lips, wondering how _stupid_ it would be to just walk into the forest now, when he knows very well that he's probably going to get lost. He shakes his head. The longer he's staying here, the longer Cas is somewhere all by himself, doing and thinking _God-knows-what._

 

Once again, Dean tries to call Castiel – even twice –, but the blue-eyed boy still doesn't answer his calls. “Fuck,” Dean mutters.

 

It's shortly before 6 am when he enters the forest, still thinking that this is fucking stupid. But what else is he supposed to do? Besides, it figures that Cas went to his thinking spot, somehow – right? Where else should he have gone, when he didn't go to any of their friends' places?

 

The problem is – Dean has no idea where _he_ is going. He tries to remember roughly the direction they went, but he really isn't sure about it. Though, he just keeps stomping through the woods. He's worried and angry, and that's urging him to continue walking. If he'll just find the stream, then he could follow it – at least, that's what he's telling himself... but it's wintertime and they went into the forest and walked to Cas' spot by the stream _months ago._ And due to the different season, everything's looking differently. On top of that, it's still dark and he has to use the flashlight of his phone.

 

A desperate sigh escapes Dean's lips – honestly, _fucking hell._ It doesn't take long for his hands and his face to get numb from the cold. He shivers, burying one hand into the pocket of his jacket at least, but it doesn't really help. From time to time, he stops and looks around, but nothing seems even remotely familiar. He gets caught on low branches or on the twigs of some shrubs, and trips over protruding roots, despite the flashlight. One time, Dean actually falls to the ground, but he doesn't injure himself. Grumpily, he brushes the dirt and the snow off his clothes before he keeps walking.

 

Dean stumbles through the forest for hours. It begins to dawn and he turns the flashlight off. It stops to snow for a while every now and then, only to start again and again. It's fucking cold, Dean is fucking tired, and he still hasn't found Castiel. By now, it's past eight thirty and he hasn't heard anything, neither from Lucifer, or from the others, or from Cas. Slowly but surely, panic begins to take root in the pit of his stomach. It's not just that he's really worried about the blue-eyed boy – there's fear inside of him as well, because he doesn't know where he is and how he's supposed to get out of this forest on his own again. Also, his headache is still pounding against the top of his skull like an air hammer.

 

He starts to bite his lip, ignoring his heart that's throbbing in his chest, and wondering if he should just keep walking or if he should try to find a way back. And then, he finally hears it – the brawl of a brook. Dean quickens his pace, walking towards the sound. Relief cuts out the panic he felt until a few moments ago. When he's able to have a look at the stream, he feels as if he could crack up with laughter. “Yes,” he exclaims. _Thank god – fucking hell, finally._

 

The water is running steadily, although the creek is half-frozen. But it helps Dean to calm down and to breathe even again. Now, he just has to follow the stream and then he'll find Castiel eventually. Dean takes a deep breath and starts to walk again.

 

But it takes Dean another 40 minutes until he finally arrives at the hill that's still slightly leaning over the stream, right where the brook is curving. On top of the hill, there's a cluster of bare trees huddled up and in front of the trees is a boy, who's just standing there and staring into the forest on the other side of the stream. Dean recognizes the messy black hair and the trenchcoat – Castiel. In a matter of seconds, he climbs up the hill, heaving a sigh of relief.

 

Cas flinches, when he notices Dean – he seems as if he was deep in thought. Without really thinking about it, Dean wraps his arms around the blue-eyed boy, who stiffens at the touch and doesn't hug him back. Dean swallows, slowly letting go of him. He doesn't even know what he's supposed to say or to do. Castiel returns his look with wide and tired eyes, and he seems chilled to the bones.

 

“Dean, what are you doing here?”

 

“What I'm doing here?” Dean asks back, perplexed. “What I'm doing here? Searching for you! I'm stumbling through this fucking forest for hours.”

 

Castiel opens his mouth, but he doesn't say something and just closes it again, pressing his lips tightly together.

 

“You can't just disappear like this,” Dean says. “Without leaving a note, without letting us know. We were worried sick.”

 

Cas looks away, shrugging his shoulders once and still not saying something.

 

Dean furrows his brow. “What's wrong?”

 

“You know what day it is,” Castiel says through gritted teeth, glancing at him. The blue of Cas' eyes seems so intense right now, the ocean so deep, and Dean notices the old and profound pain he has already seen in these eyes before. He licks his lips. “Yeah, I know. That's why I was there, at your house and in your bed. But why did you just leave?”

 

“I wanted to be alone,” Cas mumbles, looking at the ground now.

 

“You could have told us that, and it would have been fine. But you just disappeared in the middle of the night. I woke up alone around 5 am and didn't know what to think.”

 

Again, Cas just shrugs.

 

“Talk to me,” Dean pleads. “We can talk about this.”

 

When they lock eyes again, Dean sees the raging storm above the ocean, but apart from that, he isn't able to read the expression on Castiel's face. His heart sinks. Cas is even more distant than he was already yesterday, so distant like he hasn't been for months. They've come so far already...

 

Dean shakes his head. “Don't do that.”

 

“What do you mean?” Castiel asks defensively, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

 

“Don't shut yourself away again,” Dean says quietly, stepping closer. Cas looks at him warily, but at least he doesn't step back.

 

“Come on, talk to me,” Dean repeats. “Tell me why you just left.”

 

But Cas just shakes his head slowly. Dean feels weirdly hollow. “Okay, fine. You don't... you don't have to. Let's just go back...” He holds his hand out for Cas to take, but the blue-eyed boy makes no move to take it.

 

“Cas...,” Dean starts, not knowing what to say. He's scared. “I'm here for you.”

 

“Why?” Cas says, his voice breaking. All of a sudden, he looks so fucking sad. Dean stares at him wide-eyed, swallowing with a click. “What do you mean _why?_ You know why. I'm your boyfriend.”

 

“I'm sorry,” Castiel says quietly, shaking his head once again.

 

“What are you apologizing for?” Dean asks, and his panic is back.

 

“I can't... I can't do this anymore. It's not fair...,” the blue-eyed boy whispers.

 

Dean huffs a breath, just blinking at Cas for a moment. “Are... are you... breaking up with me?”

 

“Dean, I...,” Cas still shakes his head, returning Dean's look with a desperate expression on his face now. “Don't think that I want to, but...”

 

“Then, dont!” Dean says. “We're not breaking up.”

 

Castiel runs his fingers through his hair, tugging at the dark strands and closing his eyes. Carefully, Dean steps closer, trying to ignore his heart that's beating frantically and to think of something to say. “Cas, I've told you I'm not going to leave, no matter what. And I'm not letting you do this now.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because there's no reason for us to break up,” Dean says, trying to look Cas in the eye, but the other boy is trying to avoid his gaze. “There are other problems, but I thought everything is okay between us, at least.”

 

When Castiel looks at him again, there are tears welling in his eyes. “I'm fucked up.” He shrugs his shoulders, seeming totally lost. Dean tilts his head. His mind is blank for a few seconds, and Cas continues talking. “Dean, I'm fucked up. I shouldn't have... allowed this to happen. I talked myself into believing that it's your decision, if you wanted to stay with me or not. But this is just not fair to you. You deserve something better.”

 

Dean feels dizzy – the blue-eyed boy just pulled the rug out from under his feet. It's as if the last few months didn't happen and they're back at the beginning. He shakes his head. No. They didn't come this far, only to end like _this._

 

“It _is_ my decision,” he says sternly. “And I'm staying. We are not breaking up.” Scattered snowflakes land on the back of his neck, and he shivers again. He sees a few snowflakes getting entangled in Castiel's dark hair as well.

 

“It's also my decision, Dean. And I'm not going to do this to you anymore.”

 

“What about all of our conversations? What about being there for each other, and...” Dean starts, but Cas keeps shaking his head. “Don't just stand there and shake your head. _You_ said we belong to each other.”

 

“I... I...,” Cas stammers, but he seems pretty close to crying now and isn't able to form a full sentence.

 

“I thought I'm helping you,” Dean says. “I thought I make it easier for you to breathe.”

 

“But I don't want that, if I-I'm making it hard for you to breathe. I don't want to take air away from you.”

 

“But you don't do that,” Dean says quietly. He swallows. “Cas, we are both fucked up.” Again, he steps a little closer and Cas doesn't step back. “Please, you have to understand that you're helping me as well. You're balancing shit out for me as well. You're not taking anything away from me.”

 

Castiel looks at him questioningly. “I don't?” he asks weakly.

 

“You don't,” Dean affirms softly. “You really don't. You're making things easier for me as well. When I'm with you, it doesn't matter that I'm a fucking mess. When we're together, it doesn't matter that we're both fucked up.”

 

“But why don't you want somebody who isn't fucked up as well?”

 

“So I'm constantly feeling like I'm broken and not good enough next to that person?” Dean asks in disbelief. “Cas, you give me the feeling that I _am_ good enough.”

 

“You are. But you are _too_ good for _me,”_ Cas says, shuffling his feet.

 

“No, I'm not,” Dean protests. “I'm just trying my best for you. Because I want you.”

 

“How can you even want me?” Castiel whispers.

 

Dean walks towards the blue-eyed boy until he's standing right in front of him. Tiredly, Cas stares at him, and the tears in his eyes are sparkling slightly. Dean puts a hand on Cas' cheek, and Castiel wraps his fingers around his wrist. For a moment, he thinks that Cas will pull his hand away from his face, but he doesn't, he just clings to his wrist. Dean bites his lip briefly, looking around and one of the trees catches his eye. A small smile touches the corners of his mouth – Cas and he sat right there, when they've kissed for the first time.

 

Cas follows his gaze, looking at the tree as well. “What?” he wonders.

 

“Don't you remember? I kissed you for the first time here,” Dean answers in a whisper.

 

Castiel swallows, throat rippling. “How could I forget that?”

 

Dean licks his lips. “You wanted a proof that I actually like you, that I'm honest with you about my feelings for you. So, I kissed you.”

 

“I know,” Cas says, nodding and still looking at him with wide eyes.

 

“That kiss was a promise, Cas. That I'm not going to leave you, no matter what. Besides, it felt pretty magically.” Slowly, he leans forward, capturing Castiel's lips with his own. It's not like their first kiss. Dean is still gentle, but this kiss is a little bit more roughly than their first kiss, though it's not any less magical. Dean doesn't hesitate to trace Cas' bottom lip with his tongue, and the blue-eyed boy parts his lips willingly, allowing Dean to slide his tongue into his mouth. One of Dean's hand is still pressed to Cas' face, thumb caressing his cheekbone, fingers curling around the nape of his neck. His other hand is pressed to the small of Castiel's back, pressing him closer. Both of Castiel's hands are on either side of Dean's face, while he's kissing him back just as roughly.

 

When they stop kissing, Cas keeps holding on to him tightly, and Dean lets him. For a while, they just breathe each other in, but then Dean realizes that the moment he waited for is finally there. Something seems to plummet right through him – maybe certainty? He looks in these so familiar and gorgeous blue eyes.

 

“It's _magical_ to kiss me?” Cas wonders a little doubtfully, pressing his eyebrows together.

 

Dean just nods, thumbing at Cas' jawline. He takes a deep breath. “My feelings for you only intensified in the last months,” he says. “So, I can't let you do this. I won't let you break up with me.”

 

Castiel sighs. “I don't _want_ to break up with you. It's just that I think...”

 

“I know,” Dean interrupts him. “I know.” He pauses for a few seconds. “You asked why I want you. I just do, Cas. You're gorgeous. You're...”

 

“Stop,” Cas says, putting a finger against his lips. “Don't do that.” He lets go of Dean. “I can't let you do this. Believe me, you'll find someone better.”

 

“I don't want anybody else,” Dean exclaims. “I only want you.” He takes Castiel's hand, pulling the blue-eyed boy closer again. There are far too many doubts in Cas' eyes for his liking. “Castiel, please. Don't do that to me. Don't just throw away what we have.”

 

“I don't want to!” Cas says, and now one tear is rolling down his cheek.

 

Dean wipes it away instantly. “Don't cry. We're not breaking up. No one is going to leave.”

 

Cas' bottom lip is quivering. “I need you too much. It's selfish.”

 

“I need you too,” Dean replies. “Cas, there's something I wanted to tell you for a long time already. And I think you _need_ to hear it now. I didn't tell you, because I was afraid of us not being ready for it, and of scaring you away.”

 

Castiel doesn't say something. He sniffles a bit, while a few more tears escape his eyes. But the storm above the ocean came to a halt – as if he's waiting for something. And Dean knows that this is really big. But he also knows that he's never been more sure of anything.

 

“I love you.” Quietly, the words slip out of him, and his heart is beating calmly in his chest. It's simply the truth and he finally said it. It's finally out, the words rolled off his tongue so naturally and smoothly, and the big moment feels oddly small.

 

“You...,” Cas says, swallowing. “You _love_ me?”

 

Dean nods. “Yeah. I do.” He starts to smile, but then he sees that Castiel is trembling. His hands are shaking as he rubs his eyes. Cautiously, Dean takes his hands into his, giving the blue-eyed boy a moment to comprehend what he just told him. He's actually just glad that Cas doesn't try to pull his hands away.

 

“That... that means you would accept my apology, right?” Cas asks, huffing a small breath. A little confused, Dean returns his look. “What are you apologizing for?”

 

“For trying to push you away again and for being so fucking stupid,” Castiel mutters, but even his voice is trembling.

 

Dean shakes his head. “You don't have to apologize for anything, Cas. Just... just don't ever scare the heck out of me like this again, okay? Don't ever just disappear like this again. I was really worried.”

 

Finally, Castiel is nodding and then he wraps his arms around Dean, practically throwing himself at him. Dean doesn't mind though, not at all. He hugs Cas back, holding him tightly. The blue-eyed boy buries his face into the crook of Dean's neck, and Dean lets out a relieved sigh.

 

“We're okay, right?” he whispers, and Cas huffs a small broken laugh, lifting his head and looking Dean in the eye. “We're okay.”

 

Dean kisses him, pressing him impossibly closer. “Come on, we should go back. The others are worrying, too.”

 

Cas nods hesitantly. “I'm sorry about just leaving. I... I just...”

 

“I know. It's okay. It's okay now. The others will understand. The important thing now is to get you through the day, okay?”

 

“Okay,” Cas mumbles, letting Dean take his hand again and intertwine their fingers.

 

They start walking, and Castiel leads the way. It takes them quite a while to get out of the forest, since they're walking relatively slowly, but Dean doesn't mention it. He's just glad that he did find Castiel. He also doesn't mind that they don't talk until they're standing on asphalt again.

 

Dean looks at Cas from the side and has the feeling he's able to breathe properly again. His head stopped hurting, and the hollow feeling inside of him disappeared as well. Cas turns his head, returning his look.

 

“Thank you, Dean.”

 

“For searching for you?” Dean asks wonderingly.

 

“For finding me,” Castiel corrects him quietly. “For not giving up on me.”

 

“Never,” Dean says, giving Cas' hand a gentle squeeze. “You won't get rid of me so easily.”

 

“If you don't mind, I won't ever try again to get rid of you.”

 

“Well, I'm okay with that,” Dean says softly, starting to smile.

 

“I'm really sorry, Dean,” Cas says with furrowed brow.

 

“Stop apologizing,” Dean says. “I don't want you to.”

 

“But I want to apologize. I almost ruined our relationship.”

 

But Dean shakes his head. “Like I said, you won't get rid of me this easily. What happened was just... a minor incident. Everything's okay again.” He starts walking again, pulling Castiel along, who doesn't protest.

 

While they walk through the town back to the Novak's house, Dean texts Lucifer, letting him know that he found his little brother and that they're on the way home. More than anything, Lucifer is just relieved and glad about seeing his brother. Cas lets him hug him briefly before he mutters something about going to the bathroom. Lucifer nods, and they watch Castiel go upstairs. Then, Lucifer turns to Dean. “Thank you,” he says seriously.

 

“You don't have to thank me,” Dean says. “I'm just as relieved as you are.”

 

“Did he tell you why...?”

 

Dean hesitates. “He wanted to be alone. He was really... distant and... he tried to break up with me.”

 

“What did you do?”

 

“I didn't let him. I think you could say that we had our first fight. But we're okay again.”

 

“Good,” Lucifer says and he sounds like he means it.

 

“Please, don't address reproaches to him, okay?” Dean says before Castiel comes back downstairs. “He's feeling bad enough, and we already resolved this.”

 

“Okay. I won't say something. I'm just glad he's back and not hurt, at least not physically. I'll also let the others know that you found him.”

 

Castiel comes slowly downstairs, stopping on the second last step and looking at them warily and sadly at the same time. Dean flashes him a small smile. Lucifer looks from Dean to his brother, putting his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He gives Dean a nod and goes into the living room.

 

Dean steps closer to Cas. “What do you want to do now?”

 

“Don't know,” the blue-eyed boy replies, shrugging his shoulders. He still looks a little lost.

 

“We could visit Missouri,” Dean suggests. “She should be at her shop.”

 

Cas hesitates, but then he nods. They let Lucifer know where they're going, and drive over to Missouri's shop. Though, they don't stay there for very long. Missouri makes tea and shows them some artificial flowers that she wants to use to make flower crowns. Dean takes a delicate blue flower from the stack and twirls it with his fingers before he puts it behind Castiel's ear, coaxing a small chuckle out of the blue-eyed boy. Cas actually keeps the flower, when they leave Missouri's shop, holding it in one hand.

 

They drive through the town a little aimlessly. Cas lays his head on Dean's shoulder with slightly wrinkled brow. “We could also visit Meg and Balthazar at the bar. I think they have to work today.”

 

So, they drive to the bar where Meg and Balthazar are indeed standing behind the counter, when Dean and Castiel enter it. But soon after they sat down on the stools, Dean notices that Cas is uneasy in his mind again. Meg mixes them two non-alcoholic drinks, and they talk about Christmas and the upcoming New Year's Eve party at Pamela's diner. Cas doesn't say a lot, but neither Meg nor Balthazar mentions it. They also seem just relieved that Castiel is there. When they say their farewells, Meg hugs Cas tightly, whispering something in his ear and making Cas smile softly at her.

 

Cas has already left the bar and Dean just wants to walk through the door as well, when Meg calls his name. He turns back around, looking at them questioningly.

 

“Take care of him,” Balthazar says quietly.

 

“I will,” Dean says, waving at them and walking towards the Impala, where Cas is already waiting for him, hands in the pockets of his trenchcoat.

 

“Can we drive home?” Cas asks, opening the passenger door.

 

“Sure,” Dean answers.

 

Again, Castiel lays his head on his shoulder during the drive. Dean already noticed that Cas tries to be as close as possible to him, always staring at him as if he's scared of him just disappearing all of a sudden.

 

“Already back?” Lucifer asks, when they enter the house. Dean nods, taking his jacket off and hanging it and Cas' trenchcoat on the coat rack.

 

“What are you going to do now?”

 

Dean darts a questioning look at Cas, who already set foot on the first step of the staircase. “We go to my room,” the blue-eyed boy says, continuing his way upstairs.

 

“Dean?” Lucifer says quietly. “Remember, you do him good. Just be there, by his side. I think that's all he wants right now.”

 

Dean gives Cas' brother a nod and goes upstairs and into Castiel's room, where Cas is already sitting in the middle of his bed, an ashtray in front of him. He's fiddling with a pack of cigarettes. Dean closes the door behind him, walking over to the bed. “Shall I open the window?”

 

“Yeah, that'd be good,” Cas says, getting a cigarette out of the box.

 

Dean opens the window so that it's ajar, and sits down across from Castiel on the bed. Cas lights up the cigarette and takes a pull on it. Dean can't do otherwise but noticing that it looks hot. Castiel stares at him, the blue of his eyes bottomless, and he bites his lip. Then, he holds the cigarette out for Dean. “You want to?”

 

Without losing eye contact, Dean wraps his lips around the cigarette, taking a pull on it as well. Cas lets go of it, and Dean takes it so it's pinched between his pointing finger and his middle finger, exhaling slowly.

 

“I like it better, when you look at me like this,” the blue-eyed boy says, getting another cigarette out of the box and lighting it up with skilled fingers.

 

“Like what?” Dean wonders, tapping the ash off his cigarette.

 

“I can see it in your eyes, when you think that I'm gorgeous, or that I'm hot. I certainly prefer it over your worried expression.”

 

“I see,” Dean says quietly, a sad smile playing on his lips.

 

Cas lets out a deep sigh, putting out his cigarette, although he hasn't even finished smoking it. Dean puts out his cigarette as well, taking the ashtray and the pack of cigarettes and putting both on the floor next to the bed. Castiel lies down on his back and stares at the ceiling with wrinkled brow. Dean cocks his head to the side. “What are you thinking about?” he asks gently.

 

“It's just... the others look at me with worry in their eyes as well. And I hate it. But there's also something else – in the way they look at me, I mean.”

 

“What do you mean by that?” Dean wonders, lying down next to the blue-eyed boy.

 

“I don't know. I just have the feeling they're looking at me as if they're simply glad about me still being there, and maybe in their eyes that makes up for everything else.”

 

“Everything else?” Dean asks, furrowing his brow now as well.

 

“All the worry and the distress and the trouble I'm causing,” Cas answers wearily.

 

“Of course that doesn't make any sense to you, since you don't know how special you are.”

 

“I'm not special,” Castiel mutters, turning his head to Dean.

 

“You're extraordinary, Cas. Everyone worries the ones who love them at some point. Everyone can distress the ones who love them, or cause trouble. But because their friends and their family love them, it makes up for all of that.”

 

“But that's not really fair.”

 

“I suppose not. Not really, at least. But you know, it's also the other way around, and maybe because of that, it is fair again.”

 

Castiel sighs, scratching his cheek. Dean props himself up on his elbow, looking at the blue-eyed boy. But there's a small smile tugging at the corners of Cas' mouth. Dean leans down and kisses that smile.

 

“It was one of my better decisions,” Cas mutters.

 

“What?” Dean asks, gently running his fingers through Castiel's dark hair.

 

“To just be here and to be alone with you,” Cas replies, voice jaded.

 

Dean nods, lying down properly again, but on his side and far closer to the other boy. Cas notices that and rolls on his side as well, so they're facing each other. For some reason, there's a sad expression in Castiel's eyes again, causing the waves to appear darker than they actually are. Cas scoots closer to him, putting a hand on Dean's cheek and kissing him softly. Without having to think about it, Dean kisses the blue-eyed boy back, draping his arm over Cas' side.

 

“Am I really balancing shit out for you as well?” Castiel asks in a low voice, blue eyes shining brightly.

 

“Yeah, you do.”

 

“How?”

 

“I don't know. You're just making things better and easier for me. I've told you that you give me the feeling of being good enough. When I'm with you, I don't mind being broken, because you don't mind it either.”

 

“Because you're beautiful to me,” Cas whispers.

 

“You know what Missouri said to me?” Dean asks, suddenly remembering her words.

 

 _It does happen that in one period of your life there are a lot of problems, maybe even too many, so of course you get the feeling that there are_ only _problems in your life. But that's just an illusion, Dean. Your life doesn't revolve around your problems – it revolves around finding solutions of your problems, together with the people who love you._

 

 _I know it's hard to focus on the good things, when there's a lot of bad stuff happening. But please always remember –_ the presence of darkness doesn't mean the absence of light. _On some days, you have to look a little harder to see the light, but it's always there.”_

 

“Mh, probably something wise,” Cas says, chuckling slightly.

 

Dean huffs a laugh, nodding. “Yeah. You know I told her I had the feeling that my life only consists of problems.” And then, he tells Castiel what Missouri said to him.

 

“The presence of darkness doesn't mean the absence of light,” Castiel murmurs. “I like that.”

 

“Me too. And do you wanna know what I thought of right after she told me that?”

 

“What did you think of?”

 

“Not what, but rather who I thought of,” Dean says. “You.”

 

“Me?” Cas says in amazement.

 

“Of course I thought of you. Castiel, _you_ are my light.”

 

Cas swallows and bites his lip for a moment. He returns Dean's look. “If you say so.”

 

“I did say so,” Dean says seriously. “And I know so.”

 

For a while, neither of them says or does something. They just look each other in the eye, and Dean tries to make Castiel understand non-verbally what he's feeling for him. But Cas just kisses him again, pressing closer and entangling their legs. And Dean just kisses him back, remembering that it's most important to get the blue-eyed boy through the day first of all. They can talk about this at another time. What matters now is that Dean is just there for Castiel.

 

They kiss for quite a while, completely losing track of time, but Dean doesn't mind. He wants Cas to forget about time for now, forget about what day it is. He isn't sure to what extent he's able to do so, but he's just trying his best. And some kind of impact he seems to have – eventually, Castiel falls asleep in his arms. Dean doesn't dare to move in order not to wake Cas up again, when he's finally sleeping, and at some point Dean's eyes slip close as well.

 

When he wakes up, it's dark outside, though it's not night yet – just in the evening, around 8:30 pm. Pleased, he realizes that Cas is still lying in his arms, automatically tightening his grip a little bit. He closes his eyes again, nuzzling his face into Castiel's neck, and dozes off for a few more minutes until there's a soft knock at the door. Dean opens his eyes again, turning to the door that just got opened. Lucifer is there, leaning against the door frame. “Hey,” he says quietly. “Do you want to eat something? I made some sandwiches.”

 

As soon as Lucifer finished his sentence, Dean realizes how hungry he is, and he nods. “I'll wake Cas and ask him,” he whispers back. Lucifer gives him a thankful smile and leaves, quietly closing the door.

 

Dean tightens his grip around the blue-eyed boy once again, pressing a few kisses to the side of Cas' neck. Slowly but surely, Castiel wakens, blinking his eyes open and sighing.

 

“Hey,” Dean says, pressing a kiss to the corner of Cas' mouth, when Cas turns his head to him.

 

“Hey,” Cas says. “Is it the 28th?”

 

“No, not yet. But your brother wanted to know if you wanted to eat something.” As if to emphasize his words, his stomach starts to rumble.

 

Cas lets out a chuckle, completely turning around to him. “You should eat something.”

 

“You don't want anything?” Dean asks, carefully getting up. Castiel shakes his head. “I'll grab something and be right back then, okay?”

 

“Okay,” Cas says, rolling on his back and tucking one arm behind his head.

 

Dean slips out of the room and goes downstairs. Lucifer is in the kitchen, sitting at the table and holding a cup of tea in his hands. “Does he want to eat something?”

 

“No, but I'll take enough for us both. Maybe he'll change his mind,” Dean says, shrugging his shoulders and getting a plate out of one of the cupboards.

 

“Good idea,” Lucifer says, taking a sip from his tea. “It'll get better in the next days, hopefully. It's not unusual that he isn't hungry, or simply doesn't want to eat. But I think if anyone is able to make him have a snack at least, then it's you.”

 

Dean nods, a smile touching the corners of his mouth, while he puts some sandwiches on the plate. “I'll let you know if he ate something,” he says, taking the plate and a bottle of chocolate milk.

 

“Okay, thank you,” Lucifer replies, and Dean goes back upstairs, having some trouble to open the door, since he has the plate in one hand and the bottle in his other hand. But then he enters Castiel's bedroom, closing the door behind him with his foot.

 

Castiel is still lying in bed, still on his back, with one hand on his stomach and the other arm tucked behind his head. Though, he does look at Dean. Carefully, Dean puts the plate next to Cas and the bottle on the bedside table before he sits down, leaning against the headboard of the bed. Castiel looks up at him.

 

“You sure you don't want anything?” Dean says, pointing at the sandwiches. “You could drink a bit, at least.” He takes the bottle of chocolate milk and holds it out for Cas, who presses his lips together.

 

“Yeah, why not?” the blue-eyed boy mutters, sitting up straight and leaning against the headboard as well. He takes the bottle from Dean, opening it and taking a sip. Dean smiles softly at him, taking a sandwich and starting to eat.

 

“You wanna listen to some music?” Cas asks, grabbing his phone.

 

“Sure,” Dean replies.

 

The first song starts to play ( _Demons_ by Imagine Dragons) and Cas keeps taking sips from the chocolate milk. Dean finishes off the sandwich and takes another one, when they're listening to the second song ( _The Greatest Show_ by Panic! At The Disco). Dean glances at the blue-eyed boy, and then he parts the sandwich in his hand, stuffs one half into his mouth, and holds the other half in front of Castiel's face.

 

Cas returns his look quizzically, pressing his eyebrows together. “Do you want me to eat that?”

 

Dean nods. “If it's not too much trouble...” He grins a bit.

 

Castiel huffs a breath, rolling his eyes halfheartedly. He sighs, taking the half sandwich from Dean and a bite out of it. A warm feeling blooms inside of Dean and he takes the bottle from Cas to take a sip and to hide his smile.

 

The blue-eyed boy eats one sandwich and a half in total, returning Dean's grin sheepishly. Dean eats the rest of the sandwiches, not saying something about Cas eating a little bit, at least. But internally, he's feeling immensely relieved. Maybe Lucifer was right – after all, he was able to make Castiel eat a bit.

 

But in any case, the important thing is that they made it through the day – that Cas made it through the day.

 

After Dean brought the empty plate and bottle downstairs and told Lucifer that his brother did eat something, they just lied in bed and listened to music and kissed. The last hour was extremely hard. Cas kept looking at the alarm clock on his nightstand, so Dean pulled him close again and again, crushing their mouths together. Castiel did kiss him back, getting lost in the kiss for a while before getting distracted by _what time is it?_ again.

 

They both let out a deep sigh, when midnight comes and goes. Dean looks at Castiel questioningly. “Does it really make this much of a difference, now that the day is over?”

 

“In my head, in a way, I guess,” Cas says, rubbing his neck. He returns Dean's look with tired but bright eyes. “It's going to get better in the next days,” he adds quietly. “I mean I don't really like the crossover from the old year into the new year, but it's going to be okay this year, I think.”

 

“Why?” Dean asks, pressing a little closer to the blue-eyed boy.

 

“Because you are there,” Cas answers simply, sighing again. He kisses Dean softly. “Let's sleep.”

 

“Okay,” Dean says, turning off the lamp on the nightstand.

 

“When you wake up, I'll still be there,” Cas mutters in the dark, and a grin spreads across Dean's face. “Well, that's something to look forward to,” he whispers back.

 

Dean is lying on his back, and Cas practically drapes his whole body over Dean's, burying his face where Dean's neck meets his shoulder. He wraps his arms around Castiel, holding him close and being glad when the blue-eyed boy falls asleep quickly. Though, he himself isn't able to fall asleep for about an hour. But he doesn't really mind it, since he slept already during the day, and it feels really good to lie in bed together with Castiel. So, he just lets his mind wander a bit until he drifts off and sleeps without dreaming.

 

He also doesn't mind that Cas hasn't said he loves him too yet. Dean knows how difficult it was for him to finally say those three words, and he knows that it's even more difficult for Castiel. He's just happy that Cas stopped trying to push him away and accepted the _I love you_ from him. Dean wants Cas to tell him that he loves him too, when the blue-eyed boy is actually ready for it. So, he won't keep thinking about it. Lucifer also said it – Cas _is_ reciprocating, he's just not ready to say those three words. After all, it _is_ a big deal for Castiel, for the both of them. But Dean doesn't regret telling Cas that he loves him, because he does. He loves Castiel. And it felt good to be finally able to say it out loud.

 

In between Christmas and New Year's Eve, both Dean and Castiel have to work, but Cas assured him that he really wants and needs to work. Besides, Pamela needs all the help she can get to organize the New Year's Eve party at her diner. But on December 30th, they talk to each other on the phone and at first, they're only talking about work, though Dean already notices that there's something else Castiel actually wants to talk about.

 

“What do you want to tell me?” Dean asks with a soft smile, even though Castiel can't see his face at the moment.

 

“I didn't want to tell you something. I wanted to ask you something,” Cas replies.

 

“Baby, we've done that one. You can ask me anything.”

 

The blue-eyed boy chuckles slightly. “Did you already listen to the playlist I've made for you?”

 

“Yes, I did. Why?”

 

“I want you to really listen to one song. I think it's perfect for us.”

 

“You've found a song for us?” Dean asks.

 

“Just... just listen to it, okay?”

 

Since Castiel asked him to do it, Dean actually does it. Later that day, when he went grocery shopping and sits in the Impala in front of the Supermarket, he listens to the song Cas told him about – _Whataya Want From Me_ by Adam Lambert. Dean has never heard of it, and he didn't listen to the entire playlist yet, because there are quite a few songs to listen to. But he finds the song he needs to listen to now, makes himself comfortable in the driver's seat and presses play.

 

He bites his lip when the song ends, and shakes his head. Castiel's right – the song is perfect for them. Without thinking about it, he puts the song on repeat for the drive home.

 

The next day, they're free. Dean and Sam sleep until 10:13 am, then Gabriel just walks into Missouri's guestroom and wakes them. Though, he makes up for it when he tells them that Missouri made pancakes. Quickly, Dean and Sam get dressed and go downstairs into the kitchen, where Missouri, Gabriel, Castiel, and Kevin are already waiting for them.

 

They have breakfast together – pancakes with maple syrup and coffee and hot chocolate – and watch _Edward Scissorhands_ for some reason (Gabriel picked the movie) until it's time for a late lunch. Just when Dean takes a bowl full of hot chicken noodle soup from Missouri, the doorbell rings. Lucifer, Garth and Charlie join them for lunch and also play _Monopoly_ with them – well almost, since Lucifer is just the bank.

 

Around 8 pm, they leave for the party. Dean, Castiel, Lucifer, Gabriel and Kevin drive with the Impala to Pamela's diner, and the others drive with Missouri. When they park in front of the diner, there are already a lot of people. On the drive there, Cas told him that Dorothy, Benny and Balthazar helped Pamela to organize the party, that Meg has to work at the bar, that Billie celebrates together with her family and that Gadreel celebrates together with his brothers and some friends.

 

The time until midnight passes by fascinatingly fast, though there are also some moments that Dean is able to enjoy slowly. First of all, the food is simply amazing – potato salad, pasta salad, carrot salad (and Dean doesn't even like salads), crescent-shaped wraps with cheese and ham, chicken salad wraps, grilled cheese sandwiches, sandwiches with bacon, tuna, pork or chicken, hot dogs, pizza rolls, cheese skewers and onion soup. Dean eats a little bit of everything while talking to Dorothy about her motorcycle, to Benny about the food, and to Pamela about New Year's resolutions.

 

At some point, Cas finds him at the table with the salads and allows him to make him try the potato salad. Cas nods, mouth full. “It's good.”

 

Dean grins at him, pecking Castiel on the cheek and taking his hand. The others are already gathering outside or inside, but near the windows then. Dean and Castiel follow Charlie and Gabriel outside. Lucifer and Pamela take care of the firework, keeping aloof from the other people.

 

Cas intertwines their fingers and already looks up at the stars. But Dean stares at Castiel. Since yesterday he doesn't get that song out of his head.

 

_Hey, slow it down_

_Whataya want from me_

_Whataya want from me_

_Yeah, I'm afraid_

_Whataya want from me_

_Whataya want from me_

 

It's 11:54 pm. Castiel looks over at his brother and Pamela, who just told a joke apparently, making Lucifer laugh. Dean gives Cas' hand a squeeze. “By the way, I listened to that song yesterday,” he says quietly.

 

11:55 pm. Cas bites his lip. “And what do you think?”

 

“It's a good song. And also really good for us.”

 

“It is. Though, for me it only makes perfect sense from my point of view.”

 

_There might have been a time_

_When I would give myself away_

_Once upon a time_

_I didn't give a damn_

_But now here we are_

_So whataya want from me_

_Whataya want from me_

 

“I see,” Dean says. “That's why you wanted me to listen to it, right?”

 

“It was kind of a _Thank you_ and _I'm sorry_ at the same time,” Castiel replies. 11:58 pm.

 

Dean opens his mouth to say something, but the people around them start to cheer all of a sudden. For a moment, he wonders if he missed the beginning of the new year and darts a glance at his watch – but they just get ready for the countdown. He looks back at the blue-eyed boy, who still doesn't return his look. They're verging on the beginning of the new year, and Dean takes a deep breath. The next year is going to be so different – they're not going to move away again anytime soon, they have real friends by their side, he has a job and he also has Castiel.

 

He recalls the song once again, and has to admit that it makes a lot of sense from Castiel's point of view. But he also thinks that it might be a little bit more than a _Thank you_ and an _I'm sorry –_ if he really thinks about it.

 

_Just don't give up_

_I'm workin' it out_

_Please don't give in_

_I won't let you down_

_It messed me up, need a second to breathe_

_Just keep coming around_

_Hey, whataya want from me_

_Whataya want from me_

_Whataya want from me_

 

“10, 9, 8...” Everyone starts to count backwards. Castiel finally turns his head to him, smiling widely at him. Dean puts his other hand on Cas' waist, making him face him completely before he puts the hand on Castiel's cheek.

 

“I love you,” he says, returning Cas' smile.

 

“3, 2, 1 – Happy New Year!”

 

Dean leans forward, gently kissing the blue-eyed boy, who kisses him back. Though, the kiss doesn't last very long, due to all the people around them, but when they break off, Cas' eyes are sparkling. The firework starts, lightening and coloring the sky, being reflected in the bright ocean. There's so much adoration, glee, admiration and... _love_ in Castiel's eyes – Dean forgets how to breathe for a few seconds.

 

_Yeah, it's plain to see_

_That baby you're beautiful_

_And there's nothing wrong with you_

_It's me, I'm a freak_

_But thanks for lovin' me_

_'Cause you're doing it perfectly_

 

Castiel's smile widens even more, his gaze flickering over Dean's face before resting on his lips. He kisses Dean, gently but a little more urgently. Dean puts his hand on the back of Cas' neck, threading his fingers through his dark hair. Cas breathes a little harder than necessary when he pulls away, but he's still smiling, huffing a breath.

 

“I love you, too.”

 

_There might have been a time_

_When I would let you slip away_

_I wouldn't even try but I think_

_You could save my life_

 


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter turned out shorter than I expected it to be, but I don't really mind. There's lots of fluff, some smut and also some stuff that's gonna be important in the next chapters ;) hope that you'll like it. As always, I'm looking forward to your comments <3
> 
> ~ KC

“Okay, and we're doing this exactly _because?”_ Dean asks him yet again.

 

“Because it's a nice thing to do,” Cas answers simply, getting out of the Impala that Dean has parked by the side of a road that's less busy than the others. The green-eyed boy follows suit, sighing heavily.

 

“Yeah, sure. And I'm totally okay with visiting Benny at his workplace, but _Gadreel...?”_ He grimaces, taking the hand Castiel is holding out for him.

 

Cas rolls his eyes at Dean. “Let's go. We haven't been at the restaurant Benny's working at yet, and we should have done this already weeks ago.”

 

“We don't even have a table reservation,” Dean says, wrinkling his brow.

 

“We're not here to eat,” Cas says, chuckling. “We're here to have a look at the restaurant, that's all. Besides, Benny has a break at the moment, so he can show us around.”

 

“What? I don't even get something to eat? It's a restaurant!”

 

Castiel tilts his head back, laughing lightly. He gently bumps his shoulder against Dean's, shaking his head. “You're impossible,” he says.

 

Dean grins broadly. “That's why you love me,” he says teasingly.

 

“Oh, I thought I love you because you're so handsome,” Cas replies without missing a beat.

 

“That's just another reason,” Dean says, still grinning, when they turn into the street where the restaurant is located.

 

Cas squints at the green-eyed boy, but he doesn't say something since they're standing in front of the restaurant now. A few people walk past them as they look at the white and yellow exterior facade. “Seems legitimate,” Dean says, quirking up one corner of his mouth.

 

“Well, I hope so.” Benny just stepped outside through the front door.

 

They hug, and Benny grins at them. “Glad you made it,” he says.

 

“Do we get something to eat, or nah?” Dean asks immediately.

 

“Please, just ignore him,” Cas says as they follow Benny inside of the restaurant.

 

Dean shoots him a dirty look. “I'm hungry,” he complains.

 

“We'll grab something to eat later, on the way to Gadreel. Okay?” Cas suggests.

 

Benny chuckles, and they both turn their head to him. “God, you already are like an old married couple.”

 

Dean rolls his eyes, huffing a breath, but Castiel feels a strange contentment at Benny's words, and a smile sneaks onto his lips.

 

“Okay, I only have 20 minutes. Come on, I'll show you around a little.”

 

These 20 minutes go by pretty fast. Though, Dean is still complaining that he's hungry and that it smells delicious in here, he seems really interested as Benny explains some of his procedures. Castiel does listen to him as well, but mostly he's staring at the green-eyed boy.

 

About two weeks ago, the anniversary of his suicide attempt happened. Eleven days ago the New Year's Eve party at Pamela's diner happened. So, Cas already had the time to think about everything.

 

On December 27th, his anxiety just kicked in and took completely over him. He barely remembers waking up, seeing Dean lying next to him but fast asleep, and getting up, let alone leaving the house. It was around 3 am when he entered the forest. Cas does remember how dark and cold it was, though he had no problems finding his special place in the forest. He wasn't even scared, when he walked through the dark woods, although he thinks now that another person would have probably been scared. But he wasn't really able to feel anything besides the anxiety inside of him – of course, there were also all the doubts and bad thoughts in his head. Running away was kind of a kneejerk reaction, he thinks when he's looking back at it now.

 

Castiel deeply regrets his actions on that day now, and he can't think of it without pangs of remorse – he knows how much the others were worried about him. But he wasn't able to control it. He just needed to get out of there, because he thought he was taking things, he was taking _air_ away from Dean. It wasn't okay what he did, nor did it help to be alone. He felt absolutely miserable in these few hours it took Dean to find him. Due to his anxiety, he got all worked up about the bad thoughts, the doubts, the problems and the darkness that were bustling in his head. Fucking hell, _he tried to break up with Dean._ Cas doesn't even want to know how he would feel right now, if Dean did let it happen.

 

He looks at Dean from the side, seeing the freckles on his face and kissing him on the cheek, when Benny looks the other way. A smile tugs at the corners of Dean's mouth right away, and Castiel returns that smile, staring at the constellations on Dean's face a little absentmindedly.

 

Yes – Castiel needs Dean, and maybe he does need him too much and hell, maybe it _is_ selfish somehow. But Dean does need him as well, and if they're both selfish, doesn't that make up for it again? And how selfish is it really, when they're just being together with the person they love, because they're able to?

 

_The person they love..._

 

Cas looks out of the window to hide his sudden grin. He does love Dean. And he finally told the green-eyed boy that he loves him. Dean did say those three words first, when they were in the forest, and whenever Castiel recalls this moment, it still feels kind of surreal. He doesn't even know why, because he can still see it so clearly in his head, can still hear Dean saying _I love you_ for the first time. To hear Dean telling him that he loves him diminished Castiel's anxiety. It helped him to think straight again and to stop trying to push the green-eyed boy away again. Cas felt so fucking stupid for doing this, he still feels fucking stupid because of it.

 

Though, he is able to relate to why he did that, but still... it's like he already told Dean – he won't ever try to get rid of him again. The days after the anniversary, Cas thought a lot about them, him and Dean and their relationship, and that's the reason why he wanted Dean to listen to _Whataya Want From Me_ by Adam Lambert. It's always been one of his favorite songs, but now it has a whole new meaning for Castiel.

 

But what matters the most to Cas at the moment is the fact that he also told Dean that he loves him – that he loves him, too. He doesn't know what was the best about this moment. It was actually pretty romantic, with the beginning of the new year, and the firework, and the new year's kiss, and Dean telling him again that he loves him, and then Cas telling Dean that he loves him too. The expression on Dean's face was definitely priceless. Though, the best thing might really be that something just finally fell into place.

 

As good as he's feeling now – Castiel doesn't remember if he ever felt like this. He's genuinely _happy._ He feels weirdly _free._ There's a strange confidence and certainty inside of him. Cas knows now for sure where he belongs, and never again will he let his anxiety tell him otherwise. Of course, that's easier said than done, and he's going to need all the help he can get.

 

Benny's 20 minutes are over. Dean gives Castiel's hand a squeeze, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Castiel flashes him a smile, and Benny sees them out. They hug, and Cas wishes Benny a quiet shift, but Benny grimaces. “No chance,” he says, but starts smiling again right away. “I love it, though.” He waves at them, reentering the restaurant, and they wave back. Dean chuckles. “It's good to see someone being so happy with their job.”

 

Cas nods, gently grabbing the front of Dean's sweater and pulling him closer. He lets go of the sweater and puts his hand on the back of Dean's neck, when the green-eyed boy is close enough, leaning their foreheads together. Dean sighs happily before he kisses him. Castiel's eyes close automatically as soon as Dean's lips are pressed against his own. He can't help but smile into the kiss. Right here is where he belongs – to this beautiful boy.

 

They had a long talk about all of this just a few days ago. As always, Dean was so understanding and he listened carefully, when Cas was trying to explain his anxiety and what he felt and thought to him. Dean also assured him again and again that he isn't mad him, although he's honest and said that he has been angry at first. But mostly, Dean was just scared and worried about him. Cas nodded at Dean's words, and he was relieved – he still is. He doesn't want the green-eyed boy to be mad at him, though he could understand if Dean were angry.

 

It was important for them to have this talk. It did Castiel good. He needed to hear Dean say that he's not angry at him, and that they're okay. Dean just wanted him to promise that he's never going to run away again, at least not without him. Cas had to chuckle at that, but he also felt the need to apologize again, even though Dean didn't want him to apologize.

 

At the end, they came to the conclusion that the thing that matters most is that they love each other. “I can deal with all of your problems and doubts, and your anxiety,” Dean said gently. “I don't mind dealing with all of this. I want to, because I want you. I'm not going to let this stand between us.”

 

“And if any of this barged in between us again?” Cas asked.

 

“Then I'll shove it away,” Dean answered determinedly.

 

Cas thinks that this is what he needs right now, what they both need – determination.

 

It's starting to drizzle, just as Dean's stomach starts to rumble, reminding them of how empty it is yet again. Cas pulls away and he isn't able to suppress his giggle. “Come on, we'll get you something to eat before you starve to death.”

 

“Ah, finally,” Dean grumbles.

 

They walk quickly back to the car and on their way to the health club where Gadreel is working, they stop at a McDonald's. “Isn't this full of irony?” Cas asks, when they're waiting at the drive-thru.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“To eat something at McDonald's and then go to a health club.”

 

“Well, we're not going there to work out. We'll just visit Gadreel.”

 

“But still,” Cas says, cocking his head to the side. “Or maybe _irony_ is the wrong word.”

 

Dean rolls his eyes at him. But then, the green-eyed boy seems to ponder over something, briefly biting his bottom lip. “Are we really like an old married couple?”

 

Cas huffs a laugh. “I don't know. Maybe.”

 

“You're different,” Dean states, darting a glance at him.

 

“I feel different,” Cas admits.

 

Dean raises his eyebrows at him. “Care to explain?”

 

Castiel shrugs his shoulders. “Things are different. Everything's kind of alright, aside from the matter with Alastair. I mean, I'm alright.”

 

Dean starts to grin at his words. “Remember, when I told you that jealousy looks good on you?”

 

Now, it is Castiel's turn to roll his eyes. “Yeah, I do. Why?”

 

“Happiness and contentment look good on you as well,” Dean says quietly. Cas doesn't know what to say to that, but Dean doesn't seem to wait for an reply. They get their food and keep driving.

 

Well, Castiel _is_ feeling happy, and he's also quite content at the moment. And somehow, the fact that Dean thinks it looks good on him makes it even better.

 

About half an hour later, they arrive at the health club and throw their trash into a garbage can before they enter the building. Just like Benny, Gadreel was already waiting for them in the entrance area. He greets Cas with a handshake and gives Dean a nod. Cas looks between them, and when Gadreel turns his back to them and says that they should follow him, he shoots Dean a look that clearly says _Behave yourself._

 

God, they really are an old married couple.

 

Dean screws up his nose, but then he just shrugs and starts to grin, taking Cas' hand again. Gadreel shows them the different rooms and areas, and Castiel is slightly worried that Dean and Gadreel will start to fight. He even wonders if this was actually a good idea – meeting up with Gadreel together with Dean. But to his suprise, they talk to each other in a decent tone of voice. Dean even seems genuinely interested in what Gadreel is telling them. Though, the real kicker is when Gadreel asks Dean, if he's still thinking about selling their house, because he knows someone who could help them with that.

 

For a moment, Dean seems just as surprised as Castiel, but soon he's smiling at Gadreel. “Yeah, it'd be great to have some help with that.”

 

“Okay. I'll ask my friend and give him your number,” Gadreel replies, actually returning Dean's smile. “Hey, can you play badminton?”

 

“Um, no,” Dean says.

 

“Come on,” Gadreel says, and they follow him to the room, where three badminton courts are, and only two of them are currently taken. Gadreel gets them two badminton rackets, and Dean takes one from him. “I have absolutely no idea how this works.”

 

Gadreel quickly explains him the basic rules, while Cas sits down on a bench, watching them. He can play badminton, though he hasn't played in ages. He also doesn't intend to play today. It's far more hilarious to keep watching Dean and Gadreel as they start to play. It only takes Dean a few minutes until he's breathing heavily. “Oh, the fast food was a fucking bad idea,” he says. “And that's a sentence I've never said before.”

 

Castiel and Gadreel start to laugh, and because Gadreel can't even stand straight, let alone hold the racket straightly, Dean is able to score, and he instantly punches the air. They only play for a while, because they find out very quickly that Dean is a bit slow at playing badminton. But the green-eyed boy doesn't mind, he even says that he maybe wants to play against Castiel some day in the distant future. Cas shakes his head at that, chuckling softly. “Yeah, maybe.”

 

Also just like Benny, Gadreel offered up his break to show them around. They go back to the entry area and farewell each other. Cas and Dean are already walking towards the door, when Dean turns around to Gadreel again. “Hey, Gadreel, do you wanna come to my birthday party?”

 

“Sure, if I'm invited?”

 

“Well, now you are,” Dean says. “January 24th, 8 pm at Missouri's house. Fortunately, my birthday is on a Friday this year.”

 

“I'll be there,” Gadreel says, nodding, and then he has to get back to work, and Castiel and Dean leave, going back to the Impala in silence.

 

But as soon as they're sitting in the car, Cas turns to Dean. “Did I miss something?” he wonders.

 

“What do you mean?” Dean says, pressing his eyebrows together, though there's a sly smile playing on his lips.

 

Cas squints at him. “Since when you're getting along with Gadreel?”

 

“Since we came to the conclusion that our lives could be a whole lot simpler, if we got along with one another. Besides, he's a very good friend of you, and I am your boyfriend, so we have to see each other from time to time, so we decided that it'd be easier for all of us, if we're nice to each other.”

 

“Wow,” Cas says. “That's very mature.”

 

“I know, right?” Dean says. “We've made this decision right after we both dealt a few blows.”

 

“What?!”

 

“Just kidding. I mean, at first he did piss me off with something he said, and I may have pushed him a little bit, but it wasn't a real fight. And then, we made up.”

 

With one raised eyebrow, Castiel looks at Dean, slowly nodding. “Well, that's a start, I think.”

 

“Of what?”

 

“A beautiful friendship?” Cas says, smirking.

 

“Ah, shut up,” Dean says, but he's grinning. “We're mostly just doing this for you.”

 

“How considerate of you,” Castiel replies before he changes the topic. “You're still in for the movie marathon tonight, right?”

 

“Yeah, sure. I thought we're doing it at Missouri's house anyway,” Dean says.

 

“Well, yes. But you still could have changed your mind.”

 

“I haven't,” Dean assures him. “Who's coming again?”

 

“Mh, I'll be there, you, Sam, Charlie, Dorothy, Gabe, Garth and Meg,” Cas says slowly, biting his lip and wondering if he forgot someone. “I think,” he adds.

 

But he is indeed right about who's coming to Missouri's place for the movie marathon. A couple of hours later, he's sitting in Missouri's living room together with Dean, Sam, Charlie, Dorothy, Gabriel, Garth and Meg. Missouri is meeting with a friend and asked them to be so kind to not burn her house down, while she's away.

 

“We'll try not to do that,” Gabe called after her, when she walked to her car.

 

Now, Gabriel is sitting on the couch, cross-legged and with a bowl of popcorn in his lap, between Sam and Garth, staring at the TV screen. Meg is also squished on the couch, right next to Sam. Charlie and Dorothy are huddled up together in one of the armchairs, and Dean and Cas are occupying the other one. At first, Dean was a little hesitant about it, but then he agreed to it. They're watching all _Pirates of the Caribbean_ movies, and guzzling all the food that the others brought along, or that they found in Missouri's kitchen – nachos, vanilla ice cream, gummy bears, popcorn, and different sorts of chocolate.

 

When they're watching the third movie, Missouri comes home and makes them all hot chocolate before she joins them in the living room. She also doesn't mention the couples that are snuggling in her armchairs. Castiel couldn't be more comfortable at the moment. He's actually sitting on Dean's lap, and his legs are dangling over the armrest. Dean has slung his left arm around Cas' middle, and his right hand is laying on Castiel's legs. Cas feels all warm and soft inside, and the reason for that is a certain green-eyed boy. He lets out a quiet, content sigh.

 

It's past midnight, when they're done watching all _Pirates of the Caribbean_ movies, and Dorothy stretches her arms tiredly. Garth is really close to falling asleep right there on the couch, and Meg's head is already laying on Sam's shoulder and her eyes are closed. But Charlie is still wide awake, furrowing her brow. “Why is the first movie of a series always the best one?” she asks.

 

“Because it's the beginning, the start of it all, and that's just something special,” Cas says, stiffling a yawn.

 

“It's like the first _Harry Potter_ movie,” Gabe says. “They're all so young and still innocent, and they see Hogwarts for the first time. The other movies are also darker.”

 

Cas nods, showing that he agrees with what Gabriel just said, but he's feeling very tired and as if he could just fall asleep right then and there. Missouri decides that it's time for bed, when she sees their tired faces. Charlie will drive Dorothy, Gabriel, Garth and Meg home, assuring Missouri that she's not too tired for it. Castiel will sleep on Missouri's couch, and when the others left, she gets him a pillow and a blanket. Sam and Missouri say good night and already go upstairs, whereas Dean stays a little bit longer with Cas, who doesn't complain since he gets a goodnight kiss.

 

He kisses Dean idly back, running his fingers through Dean's soft brown hair. “You're beautiful,” he murmurs.

 

“And you're tired,” Dean says, chuckling slightly.

 

“That's completely irrelevant, and has nothing to do with the fact that you're beautiful.”

 

Dean just kisses him again. “Good night, Cas.”

 

Castiel sits down on the couch, watching Dean leave the living room. “Good night. Hey, Dean?”

 

Dean turns around, hand resting on the door frame. “What?”

 

“I love you.”

 

A big grin spreads across Dean's face. “I love you too, babe. Get some rest.”

 

Cas starts to grin as well, letting himself fall back onto the couch, his head hitting the pillow, and he pulls the blanket tightly around his body.

 

It's not that Castiel is feeling confident in his body all of a sudden. His scars and the memories how he got them are still there, but he's confident about Dean liking his body nevertheless. There's already enough proof of that in Dean's green eyes alone, when he sees him naked a couple of days later. The way Dean looks at him, the way he lets his eyes roam over Castiel's body before his hands do, doesn't escape Cas' notice. He himself is still insecure about his body and also about his scars, but Dean makes him forget about that, just like Cas makes Dean forget that he doesn't think he's beautiful either.

 

It's Wednesday and by a fortunate coincidence, Castiel has the house to himself once again, because his brother has to cover for somebody at work. And the first thing Cas did after Lucifer left was calling Dean and asking if he wanted to come over – to say Dean's answer to Castiel's request should be unnecessary. Though, Cas didn't even really have the intention of sleeping with the green-eyed boy again. Well, at least at first he didn't have this intention. He actually just wanted to see Dean and to have him near him. Castiel would have been also quite happy with just sitting on the couch and watching a movie with Dean. But they started to kiss, and one thing led to another.

 

Castiel slid his tongue into Dean's mouth, and Dean pressed him against the kitchen counter. At some point, they started to grind against each other, and it didn't take long for them both to get hard. They both decided to go upstairs and into Cas' bedroom. Though, as soon as they lay in the bed, they slowed down and took their time with removing their clothes. Castiel's whole body is tingling, because Dean _literally_ kissed him everywhere. There's a hickey on Cas' right inner thigh, and one just above Dean's collarbone. But at the moment, neither of them wastes much thought on their hickeys, since Castiel is slowly pushing inside of Dean.

 

The green-eyed boy gasps at the stretch and the burning, but soon he's moaning along with Castiel. One of Dean's hand is on Cas' ass, pulling him even closer, and the other one is on the back of Cas' neck, so he can pull him down and press their lips together. The kiss is slow and deep, their tongues slide as smoothly together as Cas is sliding inside of Dean again and again. They're not fucking. _They're making love._ Castiel doesn't even know why that's such a difference for him right now, but he does know that he's never felt so close to another person. He doesn't want to speed up their movements, though he notices the way Dean's thighs begin to tremble and that his thrusts become a little erratic, when they're getting closer to their climaxes.

 

He inhales slow and deep before he dips his tongue back into Dean's mouth, who sucks gently on it. Cas swallows Dean's groans, when he hits his prostrate consecutively, pressing impossibly closer and _deeper._ “Oh god, you're perfect,” he half-murmurs, half-moans. Dean huffs a breathless laugh, and Castiel just revels in everything that is Dean until he can no longer stave off his orgasm.

 

“Cas...,” Dean breathes, clinging even more to him. “Close.”

 

The fact that Dean isn't able to form a coherent sentence anymore is bringing Castiel even closer to the edge. “Look at me,” he says, quietly but demandingly. Dean is biting his lip, but he does open his eyes, returning Cas' look with _green_ eyes and bringing him back to that wonderful clearing. Cas has the feeling even the air is sun-drenched, it's just so very bright. He wonders if he's supposed to feel embarrassed at this – after all, to maintain eye contact right now is really _intimate._

 

 _Fucking hell, how could he ever even_ think _about breaking up with Dean?_ This is exactly where he belongs. No where else. He can't even imagine that he'd ever want to be together like this with anyone else. Is that crazy? God, it might be crazy. _He_ might be crazy. But if he thinks about it, he _wants_ to be crazy.

 

And by the looks of it, Dean wants to be crazy as well – at least, he's moaning like crazy beneath Cas and comes untouched between their stomachs with Castiel's full name on his lips. _Ah fuck everything and let us be crazy,_ Cas thinks at the sight of Dean coming. He picks up the pace just a little to finish, knowing very well that his smooth thrusts are already enough to push him over that edge. His cock twitches inside of Dean as he comes into the condom, and he buries his face in Dean's neck, gripping Dean's hip tightly with one hand.

 

Castiel keeps lying on top of Dean once he's finished, and they're both panting, completely boneless. Dean cards his fingers through Cas' hair, who makes a humming sound. He doesn't feel like moving yet and allows himself to stay like this for a few minutes. Dean doesn't seem to mind it, but he groans when Cas does lift his head and then the rest of his body, and his spent dick slips out of Dean.

 

“Oh, that was awesome,” Dean breathes, pulling Cas down again and kissing him idly.

 

Cas chuckles, briefly kissing Dean back before sitting up straight and peeling the condom off. He knots it and tosses it into the trash can. Dean's arms wrap around him again and he gets pulled back on top of the green-eyed boy. Their legs get entangled once more, and Cas leans down, brushing his lips against Dean's but not kissing him. “I love you,” he says quietly.

 

Dean starts to beam at him right away, his cheeks and chest still a little flushed, and he lifts his head, capturing Castiel's lips in a soft, soft kiss. “I love you, too.”

 

“And you're right, it was awesome,” Cas says, rolling off of Dean and lying on his back. That only causes Dean to roll on top of him in turn and lay his head on Cas' chest. Castiel drapes one arm over Dean's body and tucks the other one behind his head.

 

“I think I like to fuck gently,” Dean mutters.

 

Cas snorts. “I think it's called making love.”

 

“Eh,” is all Dean makes as an answer to that. Cas flicks his arm. Dean snickers, lifting his head and putting his chin on Cas' chest, looking at him. “Okay, maybe it would be _eh_ with someone else. But with you...”

 

“But with me...?” Cas repeats, smiling playfully.

 

Dean rolls his eyes at him. “You know what I mean.”

 

“Yes, I do,” Cas says softly, running his fingers through Dean's hair. “We have to do that again.”

 

“We're so gonna do that again,” Dean says, snuggling a bit closer so he's able to tuck his head beneath Cas' chin, putting one of his legs between Castiel's legs.

 

“Good,” Cas mutters, pressing a kiss into Dean's hair. “Any plans for the weekend?”

 

Dean lets out a low chuckle, his hand wandering up and down Cas' side, over his rips down to his thigh and back up, again and again, causing goosebumps to erupt on Castiel's skin. “I heard in the radio that it's going to snow heavily on the weekend, so spending most of it naked in bed sounds really good.”

 

“What, really?” Cas asks, a different kind of excitement sparking inside of him. “We have to go on a walk, then.”

 

“What?” Dean asks in disblief, lifting his head once more, wrinkling his forehead.

 

“It's beautiful outside, when it snows,” Cas says simply. “You don't like winter.”

 

“I hate it,” Dean says quietly. “And everything that comes with it. The snow. The cold. Just everything.”

 

“Mh,” Cas makes, closing his eyes. “We have to change that.”

 

Dean gets comfortable again. “I don't think you're able to do so, Cas.”

 

“Then, I'll just have to prove you wrong.”

 

And really, on Saturday they're sitting in the kitchen and Cas is looking out of the window, while Dean's staring at him a little disgruntled. “I don't wanna go out there.”

 

There's a smile playing on Castiel's face as he watches thick snowflakes whirling past the window. He returns Dean's look and his smile falters a bit. “I want to show you the beautiful parts of the winter season.” He purses his lips.

 

“No. No, don't look at me like that,” Dean says pleadingly.

 

“Why? Because you can't say no to me, then?” Cas says, starting to beam at the green-eyed boy immediately.

 

Dean looks out of the window again and lets out a heavy sigh. “Okay, fine. Show me the beautiful parts of the winter season,” he says, getting up and holding his hand out for Cas to take. “I really can't say no to you.”

 

Cas' smile widens even more, and he gives Dean his jacket and also a scarf. Dean takes the scarf with a grimace. “It's cold outside,” Castiel insists. “Do you want to get sick?”

 

A bit reluctantly, Dean puts on the scarf as he follows Cas outside. They walk through the town, snowflakes are landing on their heads and shoulders, and a cold wind is blowing in their faces. Dean seems to be underwhelmed by this idea right now. They don't meet a lot of people, due to the cold weather, and apparently that strengthens Dean's belief that this was a stupid idea.

 

They reach the edge of the forest and for a while, they just walk along it. Cas is still smiling as he looks behind them to see the footprints they left in the newly fallen snow. He's feeling excited, even though his skin that's exposed to the cold air is numb by now. Grinning, he takes Dean's hand and pulls him along and into the forest. Dean follows him without asking any questions. They walk for about ten minutes and then Castiel stops, still holding Dean's hand.

 

“And what now?” Dean asks, shivering from the cold.

 

Castiel huffs a laugh, putting his head back and looking up at the grey clouds through the branches of the trees. Snowflakes are landing on his face. He lets go of Dean's hand, and just stands there, staring up, biting his lip and getting lost in the sight.

 

Suddenly, there are gentle fingers touching his face, and he looks back down. Dean is standing right in front of him, staring at him with vivid green eyes and shaking his head. “You have no idea how gorgeous you're looking right now, right?”

 

Cas swallows, shaking his head. “That's not what this is about. I want you to marvel at your surroundings, and not at me.”

 

“I'm just admiring the view I have, what's right in front of me,” Dean says and grins at him before pressing their lips together. The green-eyed boy is warm in general, but now his body heat is an immense contrast to the cold winter air. Castiel can't do anything about it – even if he wanted to, he wouldn't be able to –, he just melts against Dean, wrapping his arms around him and sighing happily, when Dean pulls him as close as possible.

 

“I don't get anything out of looking up at the sky or marveling at my surroundings right now,” Dean says, when he breaks off the kiss but keeps pressing their bodies together. “But I do get a lot out of watching you. You're so gorgeous, Cas, especially when you're looking at things with such wonder in your eyes that are gloriously blue, then.”

 

Castiel opens his mouth, but closes it again right away. Well, what the fuck is he supposed to say to something like that? He doesn't know, so he just kisses Dean again, who smiles into the kiss. “You're not mad now, are you?” he asks him quietly, and Cas furrows his brow. “What? No, of course not. I don't mind you staring at me.”

 

“Good, because I don't think I'll ever get enough of you,” Dean says, winking at him. Cas rolls his eyes, although he knows he's blushing. “Well, so much for showing you the beautiful parts of the winter season,” he says.

 

“Maybe the most beautiful part for me about this season now is that I get to watch you looking at the snow with such wonder.” Dean shrugs, and the blush on Castiel's cheek darkens.

 

They continue walking, going deeper and deeper into the forest. From time to time, Dean asks if Cas still knows where they are and how to get back, and Cas answers in the affirmative every time. Though, only quite a while later, Dean asks, “Should we get back? I'm really hun-,” but he stops in mid-sentence.

 

Questioningly, Castiel looks at him. “What's wrong?”

 

But Dean just pulls him along. “I think I've seen something over there,” he mumbles. And after five minutes, they step onto a small clearing and look at a barn that's standing there.

 

“What's that doing here?” Cas asks, having a look around. Slowly, they walk up to the barn that's looking more than just a little bedraggled.

 

“You've never been here?” Dean asks, and Cas shakes his head. “I'm seeing this barn for the first time.”

 

“Do you think somebody lives here?” Dean asks jokingly.

 

“As if,” Cas says. “It must be freezing.”

 

“It's not locked,” Dean states, pointing at the door.

 

“You don't really want to go in there, do you?” Cas wonders, burying his hands into the pockets of his trenchcoat.

 

“Why not?” Dean asks back. “Come on, let's have a look inside. Maybe it's haunted and we'll see a ghost.” With that, he pushes the door open.

 

Cas grimaces, but he sighs and follows Dean inside the barn. He was right – it's also freezing in here. The cold wind whistles through the cracks in the walls, and some of the windows are broken. But the iciness is not the reason why there are chills running up and down his spine. Castiel just knows it as he stands there and looks around with wrinkled brow – something is wrong. He feels very uncomfortable, downright sick, as if the air he's breathing was poisoned.

 

The barn shows clearly signs of habitation. There's a bunch of blankets and plenty of trash just like leftover food, plastic packaging, and empty drink cans. There's an objectionable odor, and Cas can't help holding his nose. Dean turns around to him, and the expression on his face is already telling Castiel that the green-eyed boy shares his feelings.

 

“We should go,” Cas says quietly, and Dean nods.

 

With one last look at the ragbag of things on the dirty floor, they leave the barn, and the cold but fresh air feels pleasantly to breathe. Though, the nauseating churning in his stomach stays as they start to walk back home. When they step out of the forest an hour and a half later, they lock eyes.

 

“Are we thinking the same?” Dean asks grimly. Apparently, the expression on Castiel's face is enough to answer that question.

 

Of course they're thinking the same. How could they not, when they both know someone, who could live in that barn?

 

_Alastair._

 

Cas shakes his head slightly, squinting up at the sky. He takes Dean's hand, intertwining their fingers while they start walking again. He feels strangely tired, and he doesn't want to pay their little discovery too much thought. Besides, Dean seems to feel the same.

 

They don't know for sure if Al is actually the one living there. The stuff they've seen could be there since god knows when, and a homeless or so could have left it all there. Or maybe Alastair did live there for a while, but now he doesn't anymore. Still, they don't know. But all in all, Castiel is pretty glad that they didn't meet whoever's using the barn as a shelter.

 

He sees it in Dean's slightly furrowed brow, and notices it in the way he's holding his hand a little too tightly. The green-eyed boy is thinking about it as well, but they both probably hope that they're wrong.

 

Cas lets out a relieved sigh, when they arrive back at his house. He takes his trenchcoat and his scarf off, as well as his shoes. Dean does the same, although he seems a bit lost in thought. Castiel steps closer to him, wrapping his arms around the green-eyed boy and kissing him again. He doesn't want to think about who could live in that barn or not, and as long as they don't have any proof that it is actually Alastair, he wants to concentrate on other things again.

 

For examply, Dean and he, they are both content, even happy, at the moment. They have their friends, their brothers, and they have each other. They finally confessed their love to each other. They can say out loud now that they are in love with each other – that's a fucking big step and it makes Castiel smile.

 

Though nevertheless, today's walk in the woods does leave a bad taste in their mouths.

 


	33. Chapter 33

Dean takes another pull on his cigarette, exhaling slowly and trying to ignore the cold air that's nipping at his skin. He shoots a look at Castiel, who's standing right next to him and is starting to grin, when he notices Dean's eyes on him, his own cigarette pinched between two fingers. Cas raises his cigarette back to his lips, taking a pull on it, and Dean keeps looking at him.

 

It's snowing slightly, and every now and then a snowflake strays into Castiel's dark hair. The light of the well-lit movie theater behind them illuminates the blue-eyed boy, and Dean sees the crystal clear water under a cloudless sky. Despite the cold, something warm blossoms inside of him. He still hates the winter season and everything that comes with it – after all, his mother died in the winter. But _maybe_ there's also something beautiful about this season, and if it's only Castiel being in love with the wintertime.

 

“There are Charlie and Dorothy,” Cas says, looking past Dean, who turns around and sees the two girls walking towards them, as always hand in hand.

 

Dorothy spots them first, and starts to wave. Castiel waves back at her, and Dean lets his cigarette fall to the ground, stomping it out with the heel of his boot. Cas does the same, and then Charlie is already jumping into his arms. Dean chuckles, hugging Dorothy and then also Charlie, who has a big grin on her face. He sighs and takes Castiel's hand as they walk up to the theater box office to buy the movie tickets and the popcorn.

 

“I still can't believe you're making me do this,” Dean mutters to Cas, when they're in line.

 

“It was Charlie's idea,” the blue-eyed boy whispers back. “She actually wanted to go to a restaurant and have dinner, but I could convince her that going to the movies does count as a double-date as well.”

 

Dean cringes at the word _double-date._ “It's just as bad as going to a restaurant and have dinner,” he grumbles quietly, when Charlie orders the tickets and the popcorn for them all. With a strained smile, he takes a can of coke from Dorothy.

 

“Hey, relax,” Cas says, chuckling lightly. “It's going to be fun. And at least, we don't watch a romantic comedy but rather a movie full of zombies, action, battles, and unnecessary large amounts of fake blood.”

 

“That's something, at least,” Dean agrees, nodding and taking a sip from his coke.

 

102 minutes later, they leave the cinema hall and Charlie can't stop grinning. “That was _awesome!”_

 

“Mh, a bit too much unnecessary fake blood if you ask me, babe,” Dorothy says, slinging her arm over Charlie's shoulders, who screws up her nose. “Yeah, but I didn't ask you,” she replies with a cocky smile.

 

Dean chuckles. “I agree with Charlie. It was an awesome movie.”

 

“A bit unrealistic, but apart from that...,” Cas says, shrugging his shoulders.

 

Charlie shoots Castiel a dirty look right away, and Dean feels pretty offended. _“Unrealistic?”_ he asks. “Cas, we watched a movie about a zombie apocalypse – of course, it was unrealistic, but that didn't detract from its awesomeness.”

 

“Wow,” Cas says. “When the zombie apocalypse does start, I won't ask you to join my group of survivors.”

 

Dean starts laughing out loud, he just can't help it. “I'll remind you of that, when you're begging to join _my_ group of survivors.”

 

“Yeah, that's so not going to happen. And when I said that it was a bit unrealistic, I actually meant how far the blood splattered, and how much fake blood they used.”

 

“Uh-huh,” Dean says, causing Castiel to squint at him.

 

Dorothy rolls her eyes at them, but Charlie's giggling. “Well, let's just hope that we are all already dead, when the zombie apocalypse starts. Though, it probably would be pretty funny to watch you two interact then.”

 

“What do you mean by that?” Dean asks, looking at her.

 

“You're adorable together,” Charlie says matter-of-factly.

 

Dean snorts, and Cas says, “Shut up, Charlie.”, but there's a smug expression on his face.

 

“Just my opinion,” Charlie says, shrugging her shoulders carelessly. “But whatever. Either way, tonight was really fun and we have to do that again, and in fact as soon as possible.”

 

“Forget it,” Dean says. “I agreed on this once, but I won't do it again.”

 

“Just ignore him. Of course, we can do this again,” Cas interjects right away.

 

When they farewelled each other with a hug, Charlie and Dorothy walk down the street towards Charlie's car. Though, Dorothy turns around to them again. “Oh yeah, by the way. Benny's right.”

 

“About what?” Cas calls after them.

 

“You two _are_ an old married couple,” Charlie replies with a sly grin, and now it's Dorothy who starts to giggle at her girlfriend's words.

 

Enraged, Dean looks at Castiel. “Can you believe this?”

 

But Cas returns his look with a smile playing on his lips. The blue-eyed boy just shrugs his shoulders. “What's so bad about it? Why do you even fret about it?”

 

“Well, because we aren't an old married couple,” Dean says as they walk to the Impala. He fishes his cigarette pack out of the pocket of his jacket, getting two cigarettes out of it for Cas and him. Castiel takes the cigarette from him, instantly lighting it up.

 

“But isn't it a compliment? I mean, for the chemistry between us?”

 

“For the chemistry between us?” Dean asks, biting his lip. “Oh, _Mr Novak._ Are you flirting with me?”

 

Cas chuckles lowly, shaking his head. _“Mr Winchester,_ you really are impossible.”

 

“You can admit that you love it,” Dean says, grinning. God, he feels so damn good at the moment. And Cas does feel good as well, and it's so fucking obvious. Castiel is practically glowing.

 

Dean could stare at the blue-eyed boy all day. But when he sees Cas like _this_ – he just wants to get lost in the sight. Castiel is smiling, his eyes are sparkling, and he's simply fucking gorgeous. _And he's mine,_ Dean thinks, grinning around his cigarette. Castiel looks _happy_ right now. Happy and content with their situation.

 

Fucking hell, they truly are in love.

 

That doesn't mean that _everything_ is alright. It also doesn't mean that their problems just magically disappeared. No. But they aren't alone. They have something – someone – to hold on to. They have someone by their side. Before they got together, Dean already thought about this once. Now that he has Castiel, he knows it's true. Just the fact that they are together doesn't make all their other problems go away. But because they are together, all their other problems don't matter as much anymore. Dean has the feeling that he'd be able to endure _hell_ with the help of Cas.

 

Is that crazy? Are _they_ crazy? Dean looks at Cas as he walks around the Impala and opens the driver's door. If it's crazy to be together with the person he loves, then he wants to be crazy, he thinks. And maybe it isn't even that crazy. A lot of people do this, right? – Having a relationship. It's nothing out of the ordinary.

 

It's just that for them – with everything that happened in both of their lives – it _is_ something out of the ordinary. And Castiel is already extraordinary. It's not the first time Dean wonders how he got so fucking lucky, but he won't question it anymore. Cas is right there, and he's able to call him _his._ They belong to each other. Whenever he looks at the blue-eyed boy, or simply thinks about him, he knows that he has never wanted someone as much as Castiel.

 

“You're unusually quiet,” Cas states, when Dean parks the car in front of the Novak's house.

 

“I'm just thinking,” Dean says, turning his head to Castiel.

 

“About?”

 

“Us.”

 

“What about us?” Cas wonders.

 

“We're actually doing this,” Dean says, a smile touching the corners of his mouth.

 

Cas creases his forehead slightly in confusion. “We're doing what?”

 

“Being together. Having a relationship.” Dean shrugs once. “Maybe letting go of the past,” he adds quietly.

 

“Well, that would be about time,” Castiel says, his voice sounding a little hoarsely.

 

Dean leans over to him, so that he can lean his shoulder against Castiel's and can put his hand on Cas' thigh. “I was thinking the same.”

 

Cas briefly presses his lips together before he says something. “But it's still scary.”

 

“I know,” Dean says hastily. “It's scary and it's hard, but it's also worth it. Right?”

 

“Right,” Castiel says, smiling softly at him. “Though, we won't get rid of our pasts that easily.”

 

Dean nods, pressing a little closer. He'd love nothing more than to just take all the bad things that happened to Castiel and throw them away. If he could only yank all those bad memories out of Cas' head...

 

But then again... “We wouldn't be us without our pasts.”

 

“We talked about this before, Dean,” Cas says quietly. “Even if things had been different, we would have met eventually.”

 

“Yeah, but what if we had been different, and therefore wouldn't have fallen in love with each other?”

 

“Do we really have to talk about those _what-if questions?”_ Castiel wonders, voice quiet and gentle now. “What happened happened, and we can't change it. We're here now. You're here with me now. And we _did_ fall in love with each other. Besides...” He starts to grin at Dean, whose heart just automatically starts to beat at a faster pace.

 

“Besides...?” he asks, raising one eyebrow at Castiel.

 

“Besides, I can think of something better than talking that you could do with your mouth right now,” Cas whispers, brushing his lips against Dean's.

 

A shiver rolls through his body, and he presses his lips against Castiel's, his grip on Cas' thigh tightening promptly. The blue-eyed boy groans a little, and Dean takes advantage of Castiel's parted lips, dipping his tongue into his mouth. When Cas sucks at Dean's tongue, hand pressed against his cheek and fingers curling around his neck, another shiver rolls through Dean's body and straight to his dick. Without thinking about it, Dean's hand on Castiel's thigh wanders up. But that causes Cas to break off the kiss. Dean whines at the loss of Cas' lips against his, and he wants to lean in for another kiss. Castiel chuckles, panting slightly and pressing his hand to Dean's chest.

 

“We can't,” he says. “I have to go inside. Lucifer's probably already waiting for me. We'll see us at your birthday, at the latest.”

 

“My birthday is the day after tomorrow,” Dean says, wrinkling his forehead. “That's too much time without you.”

 

“Maybe we'll see us tomorrow, then.” Cas grins at him, only kissing him briefly once more before getting out of the car.

 

“Until tomorrow, then,” Dean says, returning Castiel's grin broadly.

 

But Dean has to work from 9 am on, and Castiel has an early shift at Pamela's diner. Before Dean drives to work, Cas calls him because he's having a short rest at the moment.

 

“Hey,” Dean says, pressing the phone to his ear and leaning against the kitchen counter, a cup of coffee in his hand.

 

“Hi,” Cas says. “Are you pumped for tomorrow?”

 

“Yeah, I'm definitely looking forward to it. Why are you calling?”

 

“Oh, I just wanted to tell you that I don't know yet if we'll see each other today.”

 

Dean furrows his brow. “What, why? We could meet up later, in the afternoon after work is over.”

 

“Um, I... I have to get something done after work. But I think I'll come by later.”

 

“What do you have to get done?”

 

There's a really short moment of silence, of hesitation – it only lasts for a few seconds, but Dean does notice it. “Maybe something for tomorrow,” Castiel answers.

 

Dean bites his lip. “Cas, you don't have to get me something for my birthday.”

 

“I want to,” Cas says. “Besides, it's already ready. I just have to clarify something that's needed for it.”

 

That only arouses Dean's curiosity. “Is that so?”

 

“Dean, I'm not going to tell you what I've got you for your birthday.” Cas huffs a small laugh. “You'll know tomorrow, okay? I have to continue working now.”

 

“Come on, man. At least, give me a hint.”

 

But Cas does Dean no service. “I love you. I'll let you know if I'll be able to make it today. Bye.”

 

“Fine.” Dean lets out a resigned sigh. “I love you more. Bye.”

 

He ends the phone call before Cas is able to protest about the _I love you more._ As curious as Dean is, there's still a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth and a pleasant tingling sensation inside of him. Whenever Castiel says _I love you_ or _I love you too,_ Dean feels like this. Will he ever get tired of hearing those words from the blue-eyed boy? Hell, no. But is this still a fucking big step for the both of them? Hell, yes. Though, for this very reason it's so good to hear Cas say these words.

 

Dean is really looking forward to tomorrow. It will be his 19th birthday, and he remembers his last birthday far too well. John threw him out of the house, he called Castiel a faggot, and therefore Cas punched him in the face. He actually can't believe that all this happened already a year ago. _And look at them now._ Dean chuckles quietly, reaching into the toolbox. Sam and he are finally comfortable in this new town, they have actual friends, Dean is together with Castiel, and they don't have to move away again. He's pretty sure that tomorrow is going to be so much better than his birthday last year, and Dean is more than okay with that. Though, he really wants to know what he's going to get from Cas, and for a while it's fun to think about the possibilities.

 

He's not only in the middle of his shift, but also in the middle of really looking forward to tomorrow and thinking about the birthday gift he's going to get from his boyfriend, when his boss comes over to him. At first, Dean thinks that he wants to ask him when he's finished with repairing the car, but instead he tells him that there's someone who'd like to talk to him. Confused, Dean creases his forehead. Who would like to talk to him? Now, of all things? Everyone knows that he's at work at the moment.

 

“He's waiting outside. Don't be too long,” his boss just says before he disappears back into his office.

 

For a moment, Dean just stands there. Then, he quickly wipes his hands clean and leaves the garage, stepping out into the cold and immediately regretting that he didn't take his jacket with him. And there, standing on the sidewalk and waiting for him, is John.

 

Slowly, Dean walks over to his father, taking in the way John looks like. And he has to admit that John does actually look almost _fine._ But now, Dean is just even more confused. What is his dad doing here?

 

“Hi, Dean,” John says, smiling slightly at him.

 

Dean just stares at his dad for a few seconds, but then he clears his throat. “Hey. What... what are you doing here?”

 

“I said I'll let you know when I'm back in town,” John answers.

 

Deen keeps staring at his father, nodding slowly. Something is different, but it takes him a short while to put his finger on it – John seems _sober._ And he seems to notice the way Dean's looking at him. “I don't want to bother you for long, Dean. I'm just here, because I need to tell you something.”

 

Surprised, Dean returns John's look. “So, you're not going to stay?”

 

“No.” John shakes his head. “I'm going to leave again. But before I'll go, you have to know about something. You have to know where I'm going.”

 

Dean's surprise fades away and gets replaced by suspicion. He swallows. “Okay. Tell me, where are you going?” _Does I even want to know?_ he wonders briefly, starting to bite the inside of his cheek.

 

John takes a deep breath, as if the words he's about to say demand a great deal of him. “I'm completely sober for two weeks now. And I'm going to join an alcohol treatment program. I'll check into rehab next week.”

 

Totally baffled, Dean stands in front of John without saying something for a good minute, while his mouth is slightly hanging open. Only slowly, his mind is comprehending what his father just told him. _What the...?_ “Wait a second, really?” he asks.

 

“Yes, really.” John seems to feel ill at ease. He scratches his forehead, briefly looking down at the ground before looking back up and at his son. “I just wanted you to know that. And also wish you a happy birthday already.”

 

Dean still doesn't know what to say. That John mentions his birthday is astounding him even more. John hates birthdays. He hates every holiday that could remind him of his late wife. He never mentions them spontaneously. He hates it when others mention them. He never wanted to hear something about birthdays, or Christmas, or Easter. They never celebrated anything after Mary Winchester had died. _Fucking hell, he threw Dean out of the house on his birthday last year._

 

Apparently, John senses Dean's confusion. “I... I know that nothing I say right now will make up for anything I did to Sam and you in the last years,” he says quickly. Dean's eyebrows shoot towards the nonexistent ceiling, but since he still doesn't say something, John keeps talking. “I know that I won't redeem myself in a matter of a few minutes. You don't even have to believe me, when I say that I truly want to get better, not only for you but also for myself. And for... for Mary.” His voice just breaks a little at the name. “I can understand that my words don't matter after everything I've done. But I can already start to apologize, and maybe you'll believe me that I mean it, when you'll see a difference sometime in the next months. So, I am sorry, Dean. About everything.”

 

“I... I don't know what I'm supposed to say,” Dean says honestly.

 

“Oh, you don't have to say something.”

 

“Dad, I... I don't understand.” Dean huffs a breath, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “What's going on with you?”

 

“Well, I think you could say that someone gave me a much needed wake-up call,” John says, and he really looks like he's _ashamed_ of himself. John's words and his behaviour only cause to increase Dean's confusion – but also his suspicion – even more.

 

John fishes a slip of paper out of the pocket of his jeans and holds it out for Dean to take. “It's the address and the number of the rehabilitation center I'm going to stay at for a while. If... if you ever want to visit me, or just talk over the phone with me.”

 

Dean nods, folding the piece of paper and slipping it into his own pocket. “Thank you, I guess,” he says. “For letting me know about this.”

 

John nods as well. “We'll see us again, okay Dean?”

 

“Yeah, okay,” Dean says quietly. “Hey,” he adds, when John already starts to walk away.

 

John turns back around, looking at him questioningly. “Yes?”

 

“Who gave you a wake-up call?” Dean wonders, wrinkling his forehead. “You didn't want to talk to anybody.”

 

“Ah, yes,” John says, and he actually smiles a little. “You should thank Castiel.”

 

This time, Dean lets his father walk away, because now he really doesn't know what to say, or to think. What has Cas to do with this? Did he talk to John? He never mentioned anything about it. And he would have mentioned something like this. Right? Or maybe not? Well, apparently not. Dean's head starts to hurt, and a few moments pass by until he remembers that he's supposed to continue working.

 

He re-enters the garage and starts to repair the car again, though he's miles away. He tries to understand what just happened, but finds that he isn't really able to. He also doesn't want to get his hopes up too high. Still, he knows that he has to talk with the others about this, especially with Sam. And he really needs to talk to Castiel.

 

When he has a five minute break, he texts Cas, saying that he _has_ to make it today, because he needs to tell him something. Castiel replies that he'll be there without asking any questions, and despite everything Dean smiles at Cas' text.

 

A couple of hours later, he's sitting on one of the chairs around Missouri's kitchen table. He just told her, Sam, Castiel, Meg, Kevin and Gabriel that John visited him at work and what John told him. Sam returns his look with wide, round eyes that are reflecting his hope.

 

“Do you believe what he said?” Missouri asks while she's stirring her tea.

 

Dean rubs his neck, looking from his little brother to Missouri. “I don't know.”

 

“He already said that it's going to get better so many times,” Sam says quietly with a bitter voice.

 

“But this is different, right?” Meg asks. “He never said before that he's actually going to a rehabilitation center, or did he?”

 

“No,” Dean replies. “That's really something new. But who knows how long this new attitude will last. We shouldn't... we shouldn't rely simply on his words.”

 

“But if you'll wait and he follows up his words with actions,” Kevin says, “will you believe him, then?”

 

“Well, then you had a reason to believe him,” Gabriel remarks, shrugging his shoulders.

 

“By the looks of it, we can just wait and see once again,” Missouri says softly.

 

Dean bites his lip and nods at her words, but he's darting a glance at Castiel, who hasn't said something yet. But now the blue-eyed boy starts to speak. “Did he tell you why, though?”

 

For a second, they lock eyes and Dean notices another question in Castiel's eyes – _did he say something about me?_ He shakes his head. “Not really. He just said that he got a wake-up call, or so,” he answers vaguely.

 

Before he says something to the others, he wants to talk with Castiel about this, and also when they're alone. But he has to wait for that for a while. The others stay for another hour, and have a discussion about John Winchester and what he told Dean today. They all agree that it's a step forward, or at least in the right direction, though they really have to wait and see what's going to happen next for now.

 

When Meg, Gabe and Kevin left, Sam goes upstairs to finish his math homework, and Missouri sits down on the couch in the living room and turns on the TV to watch her show. Dean stays in the kitchen together with Castiel. “Do you wanna go on a walk?” he asks, and the blue-eyed boy nods. They get their jackets and put on their shoes, and after letting Missouri know that they leave the house, they start walking down the street.

 

“I'm glad that you could come over,” Dean says. It's around 7:30 pm, and it doesn't snow right now for a change.

 

“You said you needed to tell me something,” Cas says, shrugging his shoulders. “So, I made it convenient.” He huffs a small laugh, tucking his arm into Dean's. “Besides, the thing I had to do didn't take up a lot of time.”

 

Dean flashes him a smile, and for a few minutes they walk in silence. “I wasn't completely honest with the others,” Dean starts again as they walk past the bank building.

 

“I know,” Cas says, darting a glance at him from the side.

 

Dean chuckles. “Dad mentioned your name.”

 

“What did he say exactly?” Cas wonders, biting his lip.

 

“He just told me that I should thank you. And of course, now I'm wondering _why_ I should thank you.”

 

“I've talked to your father,” Castiel admits quietly.

 

“That's what I figured,” Dean says, and they stop walking as they reached the outskirts of town. Cas nods at that. “Yeah. Um, I'm sorry that I didn't tell you.”

 

“Why didn't you tell me?”

 

“Because I didn't know if I got through to him.” Cas presses his lips together. “I didn't really say what I wanted to say, and then he wanted me to leave, so it didn't go very well anyway.”

 

“But apparently you did get through to him. He said that _someone_ gave him a much needed wake-up call,” Dean says, putting his hands into the pockets of his jacket and raising his eyebrows at the blue-eyed boy. Castiel shrugs once. “What did you say to him?” Dean asks curiously.

 

“You're not mad at me?” Cas asks quietly, biting his bottom lip again. Dean lifts his hand and pulls Cas' lip away from his teeth, letting his thumb rest on Cas' lip for a few seconds. “No, I'm not mad at you. You wanted to help, right? That's why you did it.”

 

“Yeah,” Cas says. “But it was also kind of selfish.” He screws up his nose.

 

Dean wrinkles his brow. “What do you mean by that?”

 

“I don't know. I just thought... that I'd feel better, if I solved the problem with your father, because then you'd feel better and that would have made me feel better as well. My nightmares had just started, and I was in a bad state of mind, and... _oh...”_ Dean wrapped his arms around the blue-eyed boy, giving him a bear hug. Castiel hugs him back, burying his face into the crook of Dean's neck. “By the looks of it, you did solve the problem with dad. For now, at least.”

 

Cas lets out a small chuckle, lifting his head so he's able to look him in the eye. “Maybe.”

 

“What exactly did you say to dad?” Dean asks again, wanting to know how Cas was able to do what Bobby, Sam and he failed to do for so long.

 

Castiel looks at him, cocking his head to the side and seeming as if he tried to remember his conversation with John Winchester. “Well, actually I just appealed to his conscience.”

 

“What?” Dean stares at Cas in disbelief. “As if.”

 

“I wasn't able to say a lot before he threw me out of the house. But I just told him that he was about to make a big mistake, and that Sam and you wanted to stay here, and that he'd regret it if he forced you to move away. That it would destroy your already broken relationship in a way that can't be fixed.”

 

“And that's what made him change his mind?” Dean really can't believe it. “But why? And why now?”

 

“I have no idea,” Castiel says. “I didn't even think that I got through to him, since he interrupted me and told me to leave. I honestly wondered if it was of any use.”

 

Dean scoffs. “This is unbelievable.” He shakes his head. “And not really fair. Bobby tried to talk some sense into dad for years now, and he never succeeded.”

 

“Maybe it has something to do with the fact that we didn't know each other, and never met before.”

 

“What do you mean by that?” Dean wonders.

 

“I only knew what you told me about your father, Dean. And it wasn't exactly good stuff. Maybe it's something different if a stranger tells you something like this, like you're about to completely fuck up the relationship with your children – maybe only then it brings about an effect.” Again, Cas shrugs his shoulders.

 

Dean tilts his head a bit, looking at the blue-eyed boy. “Well, we don't know for sure about that. But still, I'm glad that you did it. So, thank you.”

 

“You don't have to thank me,” Cas says, and they slowly start to go back home. “It could have backfired miserably.”

  
“But it didn't,” Dean says, taking Castiel's hand. “So, thank you.”

 

“Fine,” Castiel mutters. “You're welcome.”

 

Dean starts to grin at his boyfriend. _His boyfriend._ It still feels good to think these words. His heart feels giddy, and he leans closer to Cas, so that their shoulders bump gently against one another. Dean turns his head to the blue-eyed boy, pressing a kiss to Castiel's temple and watching how the corners of Cas' mouth quirk up. “I love you,” Dean says quietly.

 

Cas looks after a car that drives past them, leaning even closer to Dean. He lets out a quiet sigh. “I love you, too.”

 

Dean has to admit that he's not right that often, but this time he _was_ right. His birthday this year is so much better than his birthday last year. Maybe it's simply because he has someone to celebrate it with, and in fact he has a lot of people to do so – Missouri's house is crammed full on the night of his birthday. What amazes him the most is that all these people are actually there, because of _him,_ because they like him and because they want to celebrate together with him. And he has never gotten so many birthday gifts, even though that's more of minor importance.

 

When he woke up in the morning and went into the kitchen, Missouri and Sam were already there, waiting for him. The table was laid and there were plates with warm bread rolls, different choice of cheeses, cold cuts, scrambled eggs with bacon, and there were a pot of coffee and also a pot of hot chocolate. He got a food basket from Missouri and a really cool pocket knife from Sam. They also gave him the gift Bobby has sent for him – really expensive booze. Then, he had to go to work, and when he drove back home, he picked Cas up.

 

Now, there's loud music coming from the TV and Dorothy is telling him to close his eyes. Dean does as he is told, and he can hear Charlie giggling. “Okay, you can open your eyes again,” Benny says.

 

Dean opens his eyes and Charlie, Dorothy, Benny and also Gadreel are standing in front of him. Castiel stands behind them, leaning against the wall and grinning at him. For a few seconds, they lock eyes before Dean notices the small thing Dorothy is holding out for him. He wrinkles his forehead slightly as he takes it. “A business card?” he asks wonderingly.

 

Gadreel rolls his eyes. “You have to read the words on it.”

 

Dean shoots him a dirty look, but grins when he sees Gadreel's amused face. He does read what's standing on the business card and looks up and at them.

 

“You don't look as excited as I imagined you would,” Charlie says with a slight pout.

 

“Maybe we have to explain it to him first,” Benny says.

 

Dorothy shakes her head. “You just have to call the number that's standing on there, say your name and make an appointment.”

 

“An appointment for what?” Dean wonders.

 

“Driving lessons. To learn how to motorcycle,” Dorothy says, grinning broadly.

 

“No way,” Dean says in disbelief, staring at them.

 

“We four pooled money for a couple of driving lessons,” Gadreel says, pointing at him, Charlie, Dorothy and Benny.

 

“Wow,” Dean says, huffing a breath. “Thank you!”

 

“You're very welcome,” Charlie says, giving him a nod first and then a hug. “And by the way, we agreed in advance, so don't wonder at the gift from Gabe, Kevin, Meg and Garth.”

 

Dean returns her look with raised eyebrows, and it doesn't take long for the others to come over to him and hand a wrapped packet over to him – it's a motorcycle helmet. “Because safety first,” Kevin says.

 

“And a personal touch second,” Gabriel adds, gesturing at the helmet.

 

Dean has a closer look at it and he instantly sees what Gabe is talking about. _D.W._ – his initials are carved into the black varnish. “That's awesome. Thanks, guys!”

 

Elated, he turns to Cas and shows him the helmet. Cas returns his grin, but he puts a hand on his shoulder and shakes his head. “I've seen it already.”

 

“Oh,” Dean makes.

 

“Yeah, we wanted to know what he thinks of it,” Garth explains, walking past them, a plate with a slice of pie in his hand.

 

“But it's still really awesome,” Cas adds. “And I'm glad that you like it so much.”

 

Dean nods at Castiel's words, but he's a little distracted by the pie Garth is eating. It's not that Dean hasn't eaten any of it yet, after all Pamela made a bunch of pies and cakes just for him and his birthday, so of course he's already eaten a lot of it. It's just that he thinks he could eat some more right now. He takes Castiel's hand and pulls him along into the kitchen. Cas doesn't want anymore pie at the moment, but he allows Dean to feed him a fork full of apple pie every now and then.

 

They're celebrating until late in the night. Dean eats some more, and he dances together with Castiel, but also with Dorothy and Charlie. He does notice that Cas is staring at him, often absentmindedly, but he doesn't mention it to the blue-eyed boy. He also doesn't say anything about getting nothing yet from Castiel, although he said that he had a birthday gift for him. He just asks him if he's okay.

 

Cas looks at him with a soft smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, I'm more than okay.” There is a strange glistening in his eyes, as if the sun broke briefly through the clouds and shone on the ocean.

 

But what's the deal with it, Dean should only get to know a few hours later. It's around 1 am and Gabriel is more than a little drunk and in the mood to tell coarse jokes while sitting cross-legged on Missouri's kitchen table. Dean is leaning against the door frame with his shoulder, when Cas wraps his arms around his middle from behind and puts his chin on his shoulder.

 

“Hey,” Dean says quietly.

 

“Hey,” Cas replies. A small pause. “Why haven't you asked yet when you're going to get your gift from me?”

 

Dean bites his lip. “Well... I don't know. I just thought... I wouldn't mind if you didn't have anything for me...”

 

“But I've told you that I do have something for you.” Cas chuckles lowly.

 

“I guess I just didn't want to put any pressure on you. What if something came up, or something went wrong, and you wouldn't have anything for me anymore?”

 

“You're really sweet,” Cas says. “But your gift is still _available.”_

 

“Available,” Dean repeats, turning around to Cas. “And what is it?”

 

“You'll know very soon. But we have to leave for me to give you your birthday gift.” Cas walks down the hallway, looking at him with a wide smile.

 

“You do know that you're just stirring up curiosity, do you?” Dean wonders, following the blue-eyed boy who grabs his trenchcoat and cocks his head to the side. “Maybe,” Castiel says slyly. “Come on, put your jacket on.”

 

“Shouldn't we tell anyone that we're going to...,” Dean starts but he gets interrupted by Castiel's lips that are suddenly pressed against his own lips. A small groan climbs up his throat. “What was that for?”

 

“Just wanted you to stop speaking.” Cas huffs a laugh. “Please, come on. And don't forget your car keys.”

 

“My car keys...,” Dean says slowly and wonderingly, but Castiel already opened the front door and scurried outside. With a sigh, he follows the blue-eyed boy, closing the door quietly behind him, even though he thinks that's pretty unnecessary. Cas is already waiting at the Impala, with an eager smile on his lips now, though Dean seems to notice a trace of nervousness in those blue eyes. But what would Cas be nervous about?

 

When they're sitting in the car, he shoots Castiel a questioning look. “And now?”

 

“Now, you'll start driving and I'll tell you where to.”

 

“Smartass,” Dean mutters under his breath, but he starts the engine and they set off.

 

Cas clears him through the town until he tells Dean that he should turn right soon and pull into the parking area of a motel. _Now,_ Dean is just utterly perplexed. “What are we doing here?” he asks, but Castiel just grins at him and gets out of the car. Dean has no other choice but to follow him once more.

 

The motel doesn't seem shady or so, but since Dean has no idea why they're here, he stares at it warily. Without saying a word, they enter it and Cas steps up to the reception desk. A young man sits behind it, looking bored stiff. He doesn't say a lot and just gives Castiel the keys to the room he booked. Even more confused and a little hastily, Dean walks along behind Cas, first down the hall and then upstairs.

 

“Cas. Cas, wait a second. What... what are we doing?” Dean asks, not sure if he should start laughing or if he should stay serious.

 

Castiel opens the door to their room – number 34 – and just enters it. He holds the door open for Dean, and there's an elated expression on his face. Biting his lip, Dean walks past the blue-eyed boy. The room is a simple motel room with wooden floor, red wallpaper, and a king-size bed. Involuntarily, his heart starts to beat faster at the sight of the bed. He looks back at Cas, who just closed and locked the door. Dean thinks it's starting to dawn on him what's going on, but he still has to ask and especially to hear it from Castiel.

 

“Cas, what are we doing here?” he asks again.

  
The blue-eyed boy steps a little closer, taking his trenchcoat off and hanging it over the back of a chair. “Well, we're here so I can give you your birthday gift.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Dean's throat ripples as he swallows, still looking at him wonderingly. There's excitement but also fear inside of Castiel as he returns Dean's look, though the excitement definitely outweighs the fear. And he thinks that has to be good for something. Right?

 

“And what is my birthday gift?” Dean asks now, voice quiet and gentle but his green eyes are sparkling.

 

Cas bites his lip – seductively, or so he hopes. But it seems to work. Dean's pupils are already dilating. “Me,” he answers.

 

Dean huffs a breath in disbelief, slightly shaking his head and furrowing his brow. “You? You are... my birthday gift?”

 

Since he doesn't know what else to do, Cas just nods. He starts to feel awkward. Dean just stares at him. “Not... not good?” he asks insecurely.

 

“I'm just... a little confused, I guess,” Dean says. “I mean, why now?”

 

“Because I thought about it,” Cas says, stepping closer to the green-eyed boy. “And I want to.”

 

“But couldn't... couldn't it... trigger you?” Dean asks hesitantly.

 

Castiel looks down at the floor for a moment, but when he looks back up he's smiling softly. He shakes his head. “No. I mean, theoretically yes. But not with you.”

 

“Cas...,” Dean says, starting to bite the inside of his cheek.

 

“You don't want to,” Cas says. “Oh god, this was a stupid idea,” he mutters, but more to himself.

 

“What? No, no.” Dean puts one hand on Cas' waist and the other on Cas' cheek. “Castiel. Don't even think for one second that I wouldn't want to do this.”

 

“But?” Cas just knows that there's still more.

 

“I don't want to hurt you.”

 

“You won't,” Cas says, leaning closer and putting both of his hands on Dean's shoulders.

 

Dean opens his mouth to say something, but then he shakes his head and just kisses him. A shiver rolls through Castiel's entire body, when Dean plunges his tongue into his mouth straightforwardly. Cas has absolutely no idea for how long they kiss like this, but eventually the green-eyed boy pulls away, slightly panting. “Is this actually okay?” he asks, almost hopefully.

 

Castiel doesn't even have to think about – he just nods, crushing their mouths back together and pulling Dean as close as possible. Dean lets out a small moan, pushing one hand under Cas' sweater and pressing it to the small of Cas' back. Cas runs his fingers through Dean's brown hair, slightly tugging at the strands and grinning against Dean's lips. The green-eyed boy grips the hem of his sweater and Cas lifts his arms, allowing Dean to pull it off. Dean doesn't hesitate and takes his own shirt off as well right away.

 

Cas stares at Dean's bare chest and licks his lips in anticipation. It doesn't escape his notice that Dean saw his tongue flicking over his lips. He tilts his head a bit, just looking at the beautiful boy in front of him for a few moments. Dean waits for him to make the next step, and doesn't move. Castiel puts his hands on Dean's sides, thumbs moving briefly over his hipbones. He kisses Dean again, much more slowly, slightly nipping at his bottom lip before moving his lips over his jawline down to the side of his neck. Dean puts his head back, giving him more access, and Cas instantly takes advantage of that and sucks harder on Dean's skin. The green-eyed boy groans loudly for the first time, and the sound goes straight to Cas' dick.

 

He traces a line of kisses down Dean's collarbone to his left nipple, flicking his tongue over it. Dean hisses, biting his lip and threading his fingers through Castiel's hair. Cas huffs a small breath and takes Dean's nipple in his mouth, sucking harder on it than maybe necessary, but it has the intended effect – Dean moans deeply, and his hips jerk forward. Grinning, Castiel reaches down and fumbles with Dean's belt, pulling it off and unzipping Dean's jeans. Dean captures his lips in an urgent kiss again, slowly guiding him towards the bed. “Lie down,” Dean says softly, pulling his jeans down and stepping out of them.

 

Cas lies down in the middle of the bed, and his heart is racing. Very carefully, Dean positions himself on top of him, tracing a line with his forefinger from his neck down over his chest and stomach to the waistband of his jeans. Castiel nods once, and the green-eyed boy takes his jeans off and lets it also fall on the floor beside the bed. Now, they're both only in their boxers. Castiel's breath hitches a little in his throat, when Dean lies fully on top of him and their swelling erections meet.

 

Dean presses his lips on Castiel's again, simultaneously starting to roll his hips. Cas holds on to Dean's shoulders, and his own hips jerk upwards, meeting Dean's thrusts. For a while, they just kiss and rut against each other like this, and it's sending thrills of pleasure through Castiel's lower abdomen and up his spine. When Dean breaks off the kiss again, he puts one of his hands on Cas' cheek, cradling his face. “You're really sure about this?” he asks, voice rough but gentle.

 

“Yes,” Cas answers. His voice is quiet but firm. “Believe me, I thought about it. And I trust you.” If anyone is able to make him feel safe, it's Dean. Castiel knows that it will be okay to do this with the green-eyed boy.

 

“We,... um, we need lube and a condom. Did you think of that as well?”

 

Castiel lets out a chuckle. “In a pocket of my jacket.”

 

Dean gets up quickly and returns to the bed with a small bottle of lube and a wrapped condom. Cas spreads his legs, and Dean settles down between them, putting the bottle and the condom next to them for now. He bites his lip, and looks down on him. There's a grin spreading across Dean's face. “You're gorgeous.”

 

“Won't you ever get tired of saying that?”

 

“Never,” Dean says, wrinkling his brow and pressing a kiss right next to Castiel's navel. “It's just a fact.” With that, he dips his thumbs under the waistband of Cas' boxers and starts pulling them down. Castiel lifts his hips, biting his lip. His heart starts to beat a little frantically. He swallows nervously.

 

“If you change your mind, you'll tell me, okay? I won't be mad,” Dean says quietly.

 

“Okay,” Cas replies, a tiny smile touching the corners of his mouth.

 

Dean presses a few kisses to the inside of his thigh. “Just relax.” He opens the bottle of lube and sqeezes a good amount of it onto his fingers, and Castiel closes his eyes, trying to slow down his racing heart. A little bit of anxiety drips into his mind, though. Isn't Dean right? This _could_ trigger him – massively. And doesn't he know the consequences of that far too well?

 

“Cas, I'm not sure, if...”

 

He opens his eyes and looks at Dean. “If...?” he wonders quietly.

 

“If we should really do this. We can wait.”

 

But Castiel starts shaking his head as soon as Dean starts to speak. “No, I'm okay. Really,” he emphasizes, when there's doubt in Dean's green eyes. “Kiss me.”

 

Dean looks unsure, but he leans down and kisses him again. Cas slides his tongue upwards into Dean's mouth, and his hand on Dean's back slides down and into Dean's boxers, grabbing his ass and pulling Dean's boxers down a bit. The green-eyed boy moans against his lips, and then he nods. “Okay,” he says simply, pulling away and taking his boxers off before settling between Cas' legs once again.

 

He brushes his lips against Cas' cheek, hushing him – Castiel whimpers, when one of Dean's fingers slips inside of him, and his body goes rigid. “Hey, hey. Baby, relax,” Dean murmurs, kissing him once. Castiel grimaces, but he forces himself to relax, reminding himself that this is _Dean._ Dean is his boyfriend. Dean loves him. Dean would never hurt him, or do something that he doesn't want to do. Dean is a good person. He trusts Dean. He feels safe with Dean.

 

Dean gives him enough time to get used to the feeling of his finger being inside of him, and when Cas nods determinedly, the green-eyed boy slowly starts to move his finger in and out of Castiel. Cas squeezes his eyes shut, but he does realize that he's okay. _This_ is okay.

 

When Dean presses the second finger inside of him a few minutes later, Cas is already shaking a little bit. But not out of fear, no – his anxiety disappeared by now. It must have something to do with the fact that Castiel's bad memories don't even have a chance to get a hold of his mind, because he's constantly reminded that he's with Dean, and not with someone else. There's only Dean – his voice, his smell, his lips, his hands and fingers... and Castiel knows that nothing bad is going to happen to him here. This is happening, because he _wants_ it to happen.

 

Experimentally, he starts to roll his hips, pushing down on Dean's fingers as Dean keeps scissoring them and stretching him. The first time Dean curls his fingers inside of him and hits his prostrate, Castiel sees stars and he cries out. Dean stops moving his fingers immediately, though he doesn't pull them out. “You're okay?” he asks, although there's a knowing grin on his face.

 

“Can you do that again?” Cas asks breathlessly, and Dean chuckles, starting to thrust his fingers again without a warning, finding that bundle of nerves inside of Castiel once more right away.

 

They keep going like this for a few more minutes, and then Dean removes his fingers from Castiel's ass, and Cas hears the lid of the bottle getting opened. He has closed his eyes, lying there totally relaxed, although he's panting a bit. Dean tears the condom open and then there's a moment of silence, and Cas knows that Dean's looking at him, but he doesn't open his eyes. He just smiles, and he hears Dean chuckling quietly. “Come here,” Cas says, lifting his arms and reaching for the green-eyed boy, sighing when Dean's on top of him again.

 

The green-eyed boy places sweet, open-mouthed kisses along Castiel's collarbone and up to the side of his neck. “You're good?” he whispers against Castiel's skin before he starts to nip at it.

 

Cas swallows, putting his hand on the back of Dean's head, his fingertips scratching gently over Dean's scalp. “Very good,” he whispers back.

 

Immediately, he feels the tip of Dean's cock at his entrance. Dean lifts his head, propping himself up on his elbows so he can look at Cas' face. “Can you open your eyes?”

 

Castiel blinks up at Dean, whose pupils are so dilated that he barely sees any green. Dean grins down at him, slowly pressing into him. Cas gasps as Dean enters him, inch by inch until he's fully sheathed inside of him. Dean is breathing hard, and he rests their foreheads together. “Holy fuck,” he mutters, and Castiel knows that he's trying to hold back, so he doesn't start to just slam into him.

 

For a moment, neither of them moves a muscle. “You feel good,” Cas says eventually, actually meaning it. Dean's warm, thick, _throbbing_ cock inside of him, completely filling him up – it does feel amazing.

 

“You too,” Dean says, shifting a little. A groan climbs up Castiel's throat at that, and suddenly there's a lecherous grin on Dean's face. Though, he pulls out of Cas and thrusts back into him still carefully – controlled. Cas feels the stretch, the burn, and then the pleasure, and he doesn't even try to bite back his moans as Dean sets up a slow but steady rhythm. At first, he only ever brushes Cas' prostrate on every pass, but then he hits it and Cas cries out again, sparks igniting inside of him, and he's tightly holding on to Dean, who's aiming again and again for that spot, coaxing more and more moans out of Castiel. And he thinks that he should be embarrassed by how loud he is right now, but Dean seems to like it, quickening his pace just a little bit and capturing Castiel's lips in a sloppy kiss.

 

Dean also doesn't seem to mind that Cas isn't really kissing him back, since he's far too overwhelmed by all the sensations happening inside of him right now. He remembers when Dean and he slept with each other for the first time, and when he was the one who topped. It was marvelous then, and it's marvelous now. Dean's tongue is inside of his mouth, and one of Dean's hands is gripping his thigh, the other one is lying on Cas' chest, and Dean's dick is sliding in and out of him as smoothly as in any way possible.

 

Even if he were scared right now, Castiel doubts there would be enough space in his mind for his anxiety. He already feels heat coiling quickly in his lower abdomen, and shudders when Dean reaches down and his fingers wrap around his shaft, quickly moving up and down, much faster than he's thrusting into him. Cas wrinkles his brow, gritting his teeth and digging his fingernails into Dean's shoulder, groaning, because it feels so good, _too good,_ and he's sure he won't last any longer, when Dean keeps this up.

 

“Dean...,” Cas tries, though he doesn't even know what he wants to say.

 

“I've got you,” Dean says, his voice deliciously deep. _“Oh, fuck._ You close?”

 

Castiel can just nod, and he knows Dean is close as well. In fact, the green-eyed boy comes first, his hips stuttering as he empties inside of Castiel, who follows suit, feeling Dean's dick twitching inside of him as he comes into the condom, and shooting his own release between their bellies. They both let out a loud guttural groan, and Cas' muscles twitch a little, his thighs are trembling, but then his body just goes loose and he melts into the mattress. He hardly notices how Dean collapses on top of him, burying his face into the crook of his neck, with his softening cock still inside of Cas.

 

Almost absentmindedly, Cas starts stroking Dean's head, fingers gently tugging at the brown strands, trying to catch his breath. A few minutes must have passed, when Dean finally lifts his head and looks at him with hooded eyes, an idle grin on his face. Cas just keeps lying there, while Dean slips out of him, getting up and throwing the condom away. And then, he just stands there for a while, gloriously naked and beautiful, staring down at him, and Castiel bites his lip. But he doesn't feel uncomfortable. Dean's eyes are _caressing_ his body, conveying nothing but love. Castiel sighs happily, lifting one hand and beckoning the green-eyed boy back to him.

 

Dean's grin widens, and the mattress squeaks a little when he sits down on the edge of the bed. Cas sits up straight, scooting closer to Dean.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

Cas nods. “I'm _fine,_ Dean.”

 

“Are we going to do that again?” Dean asks, leaning closer and grazing Castiel's nose with his own, coaxing a quiet chuckle out of Castiel. “Yeah. Definitely.”

 

“Definitely,” Dean repeats, putting a hand on Cas' thigh, thumb moving tenderly over the naked skin.

 

Castiel slings one arm over Dean's shoulders, pulling him closer and pressing their lips together. Dean's fingernails dig ever so slightly into his thigh, and the green-eyed boy covers Cas' hand that's laying on the mattress – the one he's supporting himself with on the bed – with his own. “Thank you,” Cas breathes, when he breaks off the kiss.

 

Dean huffs a breath. “You don't have to thank me for having sex with you.”

 

Cas tilts his head back a bit, actually giggling, and Dean avails himself of that, pressing his lips to Castiel's neck. “I didn't thank you for having sex with me,” Cas says quietly. Dean's lips trail over his lower jaw. “For what then?”

 

“For just... being there,” Cas says. “For staying with me. For loving me.”

 

Dean presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Tell me how you're feeling right now.”

 

“Safe,” Castiel answers instantly. “Good. Loved. Confident.”

 

“Not scared?”

 

“Not scared.”

 

“Because of me?” Dean wonders. “All of that?”

 

“Yes,” Cas mutters. “Because of you.” He smiles softly at the green-eyed boy. “Now, it's your turn.”

 

Dean creases his forehead in confusion. “What do you mean?”

 

“How are you feeling right now?”

 

“Happy. And loved.” He kisses Cas again, and they lie back down, as close as possible, embracing each other.

 

“Dean?” Cas says after they kissed for a while and then lapsed into silence.

 

“Hm?” Dean makes, looking at him quizzically.

 

“I'm happy as well. And I'm in love with you.”

 

“I know that, baby.” Nevertheless, Dean's whole face is lighting up. “I'm in love with you as well.”

 

“I know that, too,” Cas mumbles, a small smile gracing his lips. “But I have to be honest with you...”

 

“I want you to be honest with me,” Dean interrupts him, gently rubbing his arm.

 

“I couldn't deal with it, if you left,” Castiel says, looking Dean in the eye. “I wouldn't know how to deal with it.”

 

Dean nods slowly. “Good thing I'm not going to leave, then.”

 

Cas huffs a small laugh. He thumbs at Dean's bottom lip before he kisses Dean once, gently and briefly, but still firmly. “You're so beautiful.”

 

“Shut up, gorgeous,” Dean mutters, faintly blushing. “Well, I have to be honest with you as well,” he adds a little hesitantly.

 

“About what?”

 

“I'm a little scared,” Dean says. “I mean, I'm still happy and I'm really feeling good right now. But I'm also scared.”

 

Cas swallows. “What are you scared of?”

 

“Of doing or saying the wrong thing. I really don't want to hurt you, let alone trigger you. I'm actually just scared of scaring you away. I don't want to... I _can't_ lose you, Cas. So, I'm afraid of making a mistake and making it even worse and more difficult for you. I don't want you to stop trusting me.”

 

Cas opens his mouth, but then he just lets out a deep sigh. “I guess that's why we have to keep talking to each other. I have to tell you what's going on inside of me, and you have to tell me what's going on inside of you. I also don't want to say or do the wrong thing, and scare you away.”

 

Dean nods at his words. “I just... I also couldn't deal with losing you.”

 

“Then, we'll just stay together. You won't lose me, and I won't lose you.”

 

Dean kisses him softly. “Sounds like a plan, babe. God, I love you.”

 

“Do you really think I'm worth it, though?” Cas asks, just to be sure and before his anxiety is able to come rushing back.

 

“Yes,” Dean says firmly. “And you just gave me the best birthday gift.”

 

Castiel huffs a laugh, rolling his eyes and snuggling closer to Dean. He closes his eyes, grinning against Dean's skin. “Happy birthday, Dean,” he murmurs, and the green-eyed boy tightens his grip around him. “I love you, too. And we'll just be together and it's going to be okay.”

 

“Okay,” Dean whispers.

 

 _It's going to be okay._ That's definitely a sentence Castiel hasn't said out loud for years. But now, he thinks it could be the first time in forever that he actually believes it.

 


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a really short chapter, but I hope you'll still like it!
> 
> ~ KC

The smoke goes down his throat and into his lungs, and Cas keeps it there for a moment before he exhales, blowing another smoke ring into Meg's face. They're on the playground in the park, sitting on the merry-go-round, and Gadreel is standing right next to Cas, supporting himself on the metal rod and taking a long pull on his cigarette – he didn't want to sit down. Castiel leans back, though the metal rod is pressing displeasingly into his back, then. He's shivering slightly when the cold wind freshens, since he gave his trenchcoat to Meg once again, but he doesn't mind, simply ignoring the goosebumps on his arms beneath his black hoodie.

 

“So, are you going to tell us now where Dean and you went, when you disappeared from the party?” Meg asks teasingly. It's not the first time Cas has heard this question since Dean and he returned from the motel yesterday morning.

 

He just wraps his lips around his cigarette again, not answering Meg's question. Gadreel raises his eyebrows at him and huffs a breath. Cas rolls his eyes at both of his friends, just taking another deep drag on his cigarette. He knew that the others would ask questions and even make fun of them, so it doesn't really bother him. It's pretty obvious that they were able to make out for themselves what Dean and he did in the time they were away, although neither Dean nor Cas confirmed anything.

 

Castiel is so not going to talk about his sex life with someone else other than the one he has sex with, and that's Dean. Though, something tells him that Meg wants some details at least – well, in fact she herself is telling him that.

 

“Come on, Clarence. I've told you about my guys.”

 

“Yeah, I've got a lot of information from you. A lot of details I didn't ask for. And I actually would have never even dared to ask, but now everything you've told me is etched in my mind. ” Castiel grins at her.

 

“You have to share something like this with your friends.”

 

“Okay, as far as I'm concerned,” Gadreel chimes in now, “I am able to live without these kind of details.”

 

“See?” Cas says, pointing at Gadreel and looking at Meg. _“He_ doesn't drill me with questions.”

 

Meg starts to pout. Pleadingly, Castiel looks at Gadreel and puts out his cigarette on the metal disc in the middle before he flicks the cigarette butt away. “Please, do something. Anything, just so she stops asking me about this for a while.”

 

Gadreel rolls his eyes halfheartedly, but he still presses his lips together, thinking about a way to distract Meg. She huffs a laugh, shaking her head at him, but all of a sudden Gadreel grips the top metal rod and starts to turn the merry-go-round. Cas is barely able to hold fast onto the seat and the metal rod behind him, in order not to topple over and land in the confined space at his feet. Meg moves over to him, holding onto the metal rod behind them as well, but also quite tightly onto Castiel's arm. He starts to laugh boisterously, as Meg grimaces and Gadreel keeps running around them, still spinning the merry-go-round that just keeps getting faster and faster. The world around Cas gets a little blurry, and he blinks vehemently.

 

“Stop it!” Meg yells, trying to bring the merry-go-round to a halt by grabbing the metal disc in the middle that normally gets used to put this thing in motion in the first place. But Gadreel is stronger than her, and she's trying in vain.

 

After a while though, Gadreel starts to slow down and just a couple of moments later the merry-go-round stands still. Meg wags her finger shakily at Gadreel, who's just standing there, a bit breathless from running. Castiel chuckles, slowly getting up and stepping on firm ground. His head is swimming. “Ah fuck, Gadreel,” he laughs, having to hold onto his friend, so he still avoids to topple over. He knows that he isn't moving and he's also not sitting in the spinning merry-go-round anymore, but nevertheless the world keeps turning around him at a much quicker pace than he prefers...

 

“Anybody else feels dizzy?” Meg asks, pressing her eyebrows together. Castiel puts his hand up, squinting at the other boy.

 

“Oh, you should have seen your faces. Even better than watching Dean trying to play badminton.” Gadreel can't stop laughing, and Cas snickers a bit at that comment. Meg is still grumbling to herself, and she doesn't listen to them at all. Castiel shoots her a look and refrains from laughing about her.

 

“Oh well,” Gadreel says, putting his hands into the pockets of his jacket after looking at the watch on his left wrist. “I have to go. Always leave them wanting more. See ya!”

 

“Bye,” Cas says, fist-bumping Gadreel and grinning at him.

 

Gadreel quickly gives Meg a hug, who hugs him back with a wry smile playing on her lips. As soon as Gadreel disappeared from view, she goes for Cas again, who sighs.

 

“Just tell me if there _are_ any dirty details,” she says, flashing him a mischievous grin.  
  
Castiel shakes his head. “Stop it,” he says. “Or I'll put you back on that merry-go-round. Let's talk about something else.”

 

“Dean _is_ handsome,” Meg starts thinking out loud. “I bet he's good in bed.”

 

Cas looks away, so she doesn't see _that_ grin that just snuck onto his lips. He pretends to be very interested in some trees nearby, their branches are snowed under. Still, he feels Meg staring at the back of his neck eagerly. He lets out a deep sigh.

 

“Oh, so he _is_ good in bed,” Meg says, interpreting his silence correctly. Well, Castiel really can't deny this fact, so he keeps quiet, pressing his lips together and shooting her a dirty look.

 

Meg bites her bottom lip for a moment, staring at him from the side as they start to walk back to Cas' home. Then, she shrugs her shoulders, but she's grinning again. “Okay, fine. I give up,” she says, linking arms with him. “For now, at least.”

 

Castiel is glad that she finally drops the topic, and for the rest of the time they need to walk to his house, they talk about the dirty jokes Gabriel shared with them on Dean's birthday. But just because Meg changed the topic doesn't mean that Cas' mind did the same thing. And in the next few days, he has quite a lot of time to keep thinking about the sex with Dean, in spite of all the work he has to do, both at the diner and at Missouri's shop.

 

He keeps thinking about Dean, and Meg's words – _I bet he's good in bed_ – just cross his mind on their own, and Cas has to smirk every time they do. Because it's just true; Dean _is_ good in bed, even very good. Fucking hell, the green-eyed boy is fantastic. Cas gets half-hard, just thinking about it, which is really saying something. But it makes him wonder about what Dean told him – that they're actually doing this, having a relationship, and maybe even letting go of their pasts.

 

Cas is the one who said to Dean that they can't change what happened to them. They can't change their pasts. And Castiel's past is _pretty_ fucked up. But his rape happened more than five and a half years ago by now, and he also said to Dean that it'd be about time that they let go of their pasts. Of course, they're only at the beginning, though they already came pretty far. Still, they need each other's help to keep this up.

 

 _It's going to be okay._ How could it not be okay with Dean by his side, with Dean in his life? Castiel remembers far too well the time before he graduated, before Missouri and Pamela offered that he could work at their shop and diner, when he didn't have any plans for the future, when he didn't even really saw a future for himself. Now, he has two jobs, he's getting along with his friends better than ever, and he has a boyfriend. He has Dean, and the funny thing is that he can actually see a future ahead for himself – a future together with Dean. He can actually imagine it.

 

And that he's actually able to sleep with Dean – to let Dean even top – is a big deal. It's quite admirable that Castiel was really able to enjoy it, that he actually liked it, and that he even wants to do it again. The amount of trust he's meeting Dean with is a little bit scary, but it's so important. This whole thing wouldn't work, if Cas didn't trust the green-eyed boy like that. But he does trust Dean, and he is able to sleep with Dean, to open up to Dean. Cas knows the thing that calms him down the most is that Dean doesn't cringe, when it comes to Castiel's problems. He really doesn't mind that Cas is fucked up, that he has this fucked up past. Being together with Dean really does help Castiel – he _wants_ to let go of his past.

 

To be honest, when he thought about sleeping with Dean, about letting Dean top, he was scared at first. He had the same thought as Dean – what if it triggered him? But the more he thought about it, the more sure he was of it, and now he knows that it doesn't trigger him. The wall inside of his head is still intact. Maybe, there's finally some scar tissue on his old, gruesome wounds. At least, sleeping with Dean didn't reopen any of his old scores.

 

He bites his lip, suppressing a smile. Somehow, this all still seems so surreal. Is this actually happening to him? More than once already, he had to pinch himself, because – as incredible as it sounds – _something good is happening to him right now._

 

The others are just as busy as Cas is, working and learning for school or for college. Everything is actually business as usual, maybe except for Castiel feeling good and happy. But he could start getting used to this. And the only thing that would be able to dampen his good mood at the moment is the matter with Alastair. As content as he's feeling right now, beneath the giddy happiness Dean is responsible for, there are still worries and questions regarding Alastair and what he's going to do next.

 

At the end of January, Cas is on his way to Pamela's diner, where he has a late shift today, and he's already running late. To cap it all, he thinks that he sees Malachi once again. Though, he isn't completely sure about it. He's walking as fast as possible without running, and when he looks across the street, there's Malachi. Again, it takes Cas a couple of seconds to recognize the face since he's in a hurry, and at first he looks away, but then he stops dead and jerks his head around. But at that time, Malachi already disappeared again.

 

Breathing hard, Castiel looks around but he can't see Malachi anywhere. The seconds are elapsing, and he knows that he should keep walking, because now he'll definitely be too late for work. Still, he cranes his neck, looking out for Malachi, or even Alastair. But he doesn't know the people, who are walking past him now.

 

With a frown, he begins to move again and a few minutes later, he enters Pamela's diner, muttering an apology to her. “Just hurry up and start working, hun,” she says, a little distracted by an older man who ordered a waffle with powdered sugar, but is claiming now that he ordered just a cappuccino.

 

Cas wants to talk with Dean about Malachi – and about Alastair as well – and he also wants to know what the green-eyed boy thinks about it. After all, it could just be a coincidence that he's seen Malachi once again, hell _if_ he even saw him. Maybe he mistook a random guy for Malachi. And let's say, it actually was Malachi – that doesn't have to mean something, then.

 

It's just that Castiel automatically associates Malachi with Alastair, since Malachi belonged to Alastair's group, and he is the only one of that group who stayed in this town, besides Al.

 

But it's one of these days, where the diner is full of people and Cas doesn't have one quiet moment, let alone the time to call Dean. At the end of his shift, Castiel is worn out and stifles a yawn, when Pamela is hugging him. He doesn't remember the walk back home, and he's just suddenly entering the house.

 

Lucifer comes into the hallway, watching his little brother hanging his trenchcoat on the coat rack and trying to suppress another yawn. “Bad day?”

 

Castiel shoots him a dirty look. “It was a busy day.”

 

“I made mac and cheese, if you want to eat anything,” Lucifer says, gesturing to the kitchen. Cas nods once. “Sounds good. I'll be right there.”

 

Quickly, he goes into his bedroom and changes into comfortable sweatpants and a hoodie before he joins his brother in the kitchen. Lucifer is already sitting at the table, and put two bowls with mac and cheese on it. With a sigh, Cas slumps down on a chair and starts to eat. When he's lying in bed half an hour later, he dials Dean's number, even though he's really fucking tired and his eyelids are heavy. But he still needs to tell Dean about Malachi.

 

“Hey, babe,” Dean answers the phone.

 

“Hi,” Cas says quietly, rubbing his eyes.

 

“You're okay?”

 

“Just tired, it was an exhausting day,” Cas replies, pressing the phone to his ear and staring at the ceiling.

 

“Maybe you should get some rest then. We can talk tomorrow,” Dean says.

 

“But I have to tell you something,” Cas says, and he tells Dean that he thinks he saw Malachi today, when he was on the way to Pamela's diner. The green-eyed boy listens carefully without interrupting him, since it takes Castiel only about three minutes to tell him about it. “What do you think?” he asks, when he's done, biting the inside of his cheek.

 

“I... I don't know. You're saying you don't know for sure if it actually was Malachi?” Dean wonders.

 

“Yeah,” Cas says. “God, it probably carries no weight at all.”

 

“Well, Malachi lives here as well. It has to happen that you see him every now and then,” Dean deliberates, but he himself doesn't really sound convinced.

 

“Yeah, sure,” Castiel mumbles, tucking one arm behind his head. “I just have a bad feeling, when it comes to Malachi, because I have to think of Alastair then as well.”

 

“Me too,” Dean admits quietly. “That sucks.”

 

“You still haven't heard anything from the police, right?” Cas wonders.

 

“Nope,” Dean says, and he sounds disappointed. “Have you thought about the barn in the woods again?”

 

“Yeah, but we also don't know for sure if it's Alastair, who left all the stuff in there,” Cas says slowly.

 

“Should we tell someone about the barn?”

 

“Dean, there are actually a few barns in that forest,” Cas says. “And at the edge of the town, there are a few deserted houses. Alastair could also be hiding in one of them, or wherever.”

 

“You're right. And maybe he's not even around here anymore. What if he skipped town?”

 

“Could be possible,” Cas mutters, furrowing his brow. “He must know that the police is searching for him. And what is the point of staying here anyway? I mean, for him?”

 

“I don't know. But then again, who knows what's going on in that creepy mind of his.”

 

Castiel huffs a small, humorless laugh. “Ah, true. Well, as long as we don't hear anything from Alastair again or from the police, we shouldn't worry too much, I think.”

 

“Good idea,” Dean agrees, though Cas already knows that it will be hard not to worry this much about it. But it's not as if he didn't have any distraction.

 

He doesn't even know whose idea it was, but suddenly he's the host of another movie marathon – or to be precise, Lucifer and he are the hosts of the next movie marathon. They buy snacks and soft drinks, and put together a choice of movies – for some reason, these include only horror movies. Castiel figured that that would ensure the most fun, deliberately ignoring his brother who rolled his eyes at him. But since Lucifer didn't complain about the movies, Cas didn't see any reason to consider choosing other movies.

 

So, when Dean, Gabriel, Benny, Lucifer and Gadreel are sitting on the couch or in the armchairs in their living room, Castiel showcases the movies he has chosen for tonight. Dean isn't able to suppress a grin, and Gabriel stares at him as if he thought Cas lost his mind. “You're kidding, right?” Gabe asks.

 

“No,” Cas says calmly. “My house, my movies.”

 

“Our house,” Lucifer remarks promptly. “But he chose the movies.”

 

Cas nods, grinning broadly. “Come on, guys. This is going to be fun.”

 

“I don't like horror movies. Especially when I have to walk home at night,” Gabriel complains.

 

“I'll drive you home,” Dean says immediately, and Gabe looks at him with a pained expression on his face. But then he sighs, shrugging his shoulders. “Fine. I'm accepting my fate.”

 

Gadreel rolls his eyes, but he's chuckling quietly. Castiel puts the first movie into the DVD player, and sits down on the couch next to Dean, still grinning. The green-eyed boy takes his hand, intertwining their fingers, and Cas presses play, remembering how Dean and he watched _The Greatest Showman_ right here. That's such a good memory – back then, when they started to talk and spend time with each other again. Cas darts a glance at the green-eyed boy from the side. They have to watch _The Greatest Showman_ again, simply for the fact that Castiel wants to know how it will feel in their current situation.

 

But now, they start watching the remake of _It_ – what maybe wasn't his best idea, since he suddenly remembers that he fucking hate clowns. Though, it's a little too late for that realization.

 

Next are _A_ _Nightmare on Elm Street, The Cabin in the Woods,_ and at the end _The Nun._

 

All of them flinched more than just a couple of times, and Gabriel and Benny eventually stopped eating. Castiel doesn't mind the horror or the fake blood; a good amount of adrenaline starts rushing through his veins as time goes by. Sure, he's scared as well, but at the same time also kind of unimpressed, and he isn't even able to explain this feeling.

 

“I hate all of you,” Gabe says, when they turn off the TV and Lucifer switches the light on. “All of you. In fact, I think I hate every single person on this fucking planet, and also every little fucking thing that led to the invention of horror movies.”

 

Castiel giggles at that as he follows Dean into the kitchen to put the dishes in the sink, and the leftover food into the fridge. Dean wraps his arms around him from behind, when Cas closed the fridge door, pressing a few kisses to the side of his neck. “You do know that it's kinda hot, when you're so underwhelmed by these kind of movies, do you?” Dean murmurs against his skin.

 

Cas chuckles lowly, swallowing. “Just kinda?”

 

Dean grins at him, pressing another kiss to his cheek and taking his hand again. They go back into the living room, where Gabriel is still sitting on the couch. He gives them a scowl, but suddenly his face lights up. Benny looks at Gabe a little worriedly, when he gets up hastily.

 

“Guys, I totally forgot that I wanted to tell you something,” Gabriel says, seeming excited all of a sudden.

 

“And what?” Gadreel asks, already putting on his jacket.

 

“Anna Milton is back in town, and she's going to throw a huge party on Valentine's Day again. Are you in on it?” He looks around one.

 

Benny shrugs his shoulders once. “Yeah, why not? If I don't have to work, I'll be there.”

 

“Me too,” Gadreel decides.

 

“I could drive some of you again,” Lucifer suggests. “Then, you'll get drunk, and I know that you won't be driving, at least.”

 

“Sounds good,” Castiel says, grinning at his brother. “You're coming, too?” He looks at Dean.

 

“Sure,” the green-eyed boy replies. “We should also ask the others.”

 

“I'll do that,” Gabriel says. “Right after I got home safe.”

 

“Shall I drive you home as well?” Dean asks Benny and Gadreel, who look at one another and then nod in unison. “That'd be great,” Gadreel says, and Cas smiles softly at Dean.

 

Lucifer and he see them to the door, Cas kisses Dean (who leaves the house last) on the cheek, and they watch the Impala drive down the street. Since it's already shortly after 2 am, Cas and his brother go to bed right away. Though, Castiel waits until he gets a text from Dean, saying that everyone, including himself, arrived at home safely.

 

Cas already lies in bed, on his side and only in his boxers and a thin sweater, starting to smile tiredly when he reads the message. _That's good,_ he replies.

 

_Tho, next time I see you, I wanna be alone with you._

 

Castiel's smile widens, and he rolls onto his back. _And what are we gonna do then?_

 

_I'll make you feel good. Wanna hear you moaning my name again._

 

Cas huffs a breath, biting his lip. _I'd love that. There's no doubt that you will._

 

_Oh, am I that good?_

 

 _Yes,_ Cas answers simply.

 

_Great, Cas. I have to sleep, I have to work in a few hours, and now I got a boner._

 

_Good night, Dean._

 

Castiel can't stop grinning. Only a year ago, this kind of conversation wouldn't have been possible. He would have totally freaked out. Weird, that he remembers right now, when Dean and he visited Bobby and slept in a bed together for the first time, how uncomfortable he felt, when he woke up and realized that Dean was half-hard. He even had a minor anxiety attack back then. And now... fucking hell, Cas is half-hard now himself.

 

_Dean?_

 

 _Yes, babe?_ The green-eyed boy answers within two minutes.

 

_I might have the same problem as you._

 

_I'm already solving my problem._

 

Cas feels his erection straining in his boxers. A year ago, he would have never touched himself. A year ago, he would have gotten an anxiety attack, maybe he would even have thrown up, just thinking about it. But now, he's biting his lip and his hand slips into his boxers, pulling them down a bit before wrapping around his hardening cock. Without any hesitation, he starts to move his hand up his dick, while his mind wanders automatically to a certain green-eyed boy. His hand moves down and then back up, his thumb rubbing over the slit, and down again. He presses his lips tightly together – the last thing he wants right now is his big brother hearing him jacking off.

 

His legs fall open as he sets up a steady pace. _Oh. Oh, fuck. Dean._ Castiel pictures the beautiful boy, but his mind can't really decide what he loves more – having Dean beneath him and pushing into his tight heat, or having Dean on top of him, his hands running down Cas' stomach as he enters him, slowly and gently at first, but then faster and _harder. Oh god yes,_ Castiel could take pleasure in _this._

 

Who would have thought that? Castiel thinks about Dean _fucking_ him. _Oh, maybe he thinks about both._ Maybe he also thinks about him _fucking_ Dean. He can't decide. Both seems very, very tempting. Cas wants both. _Ohhh._ He has to talk to Dean about this. Later. Today. Or maybe tomorrow. As soon as possible. Definitely, very soon.

 

His hand moves faster up and down his shaft – he's so close, so fucking close. He only needs one more thing to push him over that edge. _I'm already solving my problem._ Oh, god. Yes. Dean doing the same thing right now, thinking about the same things, thinking about _him..._

 

Castiel comes embarrassingly fast, all over his hand and sweater, huffing a loud gasp. He runs his hand a couple more times up and down his dick, finishing off completely. For a long moment, he keeps his eyes closed, catching his breath. His head is blissfully empty.

 

When he comes down from it, he opens his eyes again and looks at the ceiling, an idle grin on his lips. He lets out a chuckle, slowly getting up and grabbing a fresh pair of boxers and also a fresh sweater out of his closet before disappearing quickly into the bathroom. Cas cleans himself up and puts the fresh clothes on, darting a glance at his reflection in the mirror. He looks... – _fine._ No trace of anxiety. Instead there's a strange and unfamiliar twinkle in his eyes. Is this what happiness looks like on him?

 

Is this what being in love looks like on him?

 

Cas watches a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He huffs a breath, running his fingers through his hair. Can you believe this?

 

Letting go of their pasts, huh? As tired as he suddenly is, he cannot help thinking that this surely feels like a good start.

 

He lets himself fall back onto his bed, his face hitting the pillow, and he almost falls asleep right away, his eyes slipping close. But he forces them open again, grabbing his phone and another smile sneaks onto his lips. He chuckles quietly, sending Dean a quick text and finally falling asleep right after.

 

_I solved my problem as well._

 


	35. Chapter 35

With a strained smile, Dean hands him another teddy bear out of the box that's standing right next to him on the floor. Cas puts the teddy next to the others on the upper shelf; he's standing on a ladder in Missouri's shop. It's around 5:30 pm, and Dean came over after work.

 

“You know, you don't have to be here and help me with that,” Cas says, taking another teddy from Dean. The green-eyed boy blinks up at him. “Well, I do know that but I want to spend time with you. And this is actually not so bad.”

 

“But why do you look so distressed, then?” Cas furrows his brow.

 

Dean bites his bottom lip, fiddling with a small teddy bear he's holding in his hands. “I... I wanted to ask you something,” he says quietly.

 

Castiel takes the teddy out of Dean's hands and puts it on the shelf. It's the last one, so he can come down from the ladder. Dean rubs his neck, avoiding to look him in the eye. “Is something wrong?” Cas asks, stepping closer and putting a hand on Dean's cheek.

 

The green-eyed boy shakes his head. “No, it's just a little... cheesy, I guess. Maybe even embarrassing. I don't know.”

 

Cas cocks his head to the side, thumb moving over Dean's cheekbone. “What do you mean?”

 

“Listen, it was Charlie's idea. She said that I should ask you officially, you know?” Dean says, shrugging his shoulders.

 

“No, I don't know,” Cas says, a little confused. “What do you want to ask me?”

 

“It's because of the party. On Valentine's Day. It's our first Valentine's Day together, and I wanted to know if you...,” Dean pauses for a moment, taking a deep breath. “Will-you-be-my-Valentine?” he says, forcing the words out of his mouth at an impressive speed.

 

Castiel raises his eyebrows at Dean, chuckling. “You're kidding, right? That's the reason why you looked so uncomfortable? What – do you really think I'd say no?”

 

“I just thought... maybe you wouldn't want to, or so...,” Dean mumbles.

 

“No, I... I'd love to. And you're right, it's our first Valentine's Day as a couple.” Cas starts to smile, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to Dean's lips. Dean sighs, gently kissing him back. “But no gifts, okay?”

 

“Why not?”

 

“I already have what I want.” Dean grins at him before he kisses him again, a bit more urgently. Castiel melts against Dean, sighing into the kiss when Dean's fingers card through his hair.

 

“That's really sappy,” Cas murmurs. “Besides, I can't be the only thing that you want.”

 

“Yeah, sure. I mean, I'm also craving a cheeseburger right now, but you know...” Dean huffs a laugh. Castiel shakes his head at the green-eyed boy. “You effectively ruined the moment,” he says, chuckling.

 

“Then, let me make it right again,” Dean whispers, pulling him closer and pressing his lips to Cas' neck, who gasps quietly.

 

“Hey, no flirtation in my shop,” Missouri's voice calls out from somewhere in the back of the shop.

 

Dean groans, letting go of Castiel. “That's such a shame.”

 

Cas bites his lip, winking at Dean when he walks past him and grabs the now empty box that's still standing on the floor next to them. “We'll continue after my shift,” he whispers into Dean's ear, very pleased to watch Dean's throat rippling as he gulps.

 

Thankfully, Castiel's shift ends only half an hour later. Missouri gives them both a hug, telling Dean to drive carefully. Cas notices her knowing gaze, but he just smiles at her before he leaves the shop together with Dean. They walk hand in hand over to the Impala that's parked by the side of road. “And what now?” Dean wonders, a mischievous grin gracing his lips.

 

“Depends,” Cas says teasingly.

 

“On what?” Dean asks, and Cas pulls him closer, putting his other hand on the back of Dean's head. “On what you want right now.”

 

For a few seconds, they just look each other in the eye, and then Dean's eyes flicker down to Cas' lips. “I know what I want right now. Get in the car.”

 

“Where are we driving?” Castiel wonders when they're setting off, and he looks out of the windshield.

 

“You'll know it soon,” Dean answers simply, though he's right. It takes Cas only a couple of minutes, and then he knows where they're headed for. “Oh, really?” he asks, scooting closer to Dean, who darts a quick glance at him. “Really.”

 

Dean drives to the spot where they've been to before, where a hiking path into the forest starts. As always, there are no other cars here, but Cas doesn't pay a lot of attention to their surroundings. The second the car is parked and Dean shut off the engine, Castiel's lips are pressed to Dean's neck, nipping at the skin and quickly finding the spot that coaxes a first moan out of the green-eyed boy. He grins against Dean's skin, pulling away and looking Dean in the eye, who huffs a breath and shakes his head.

 

Castiel leans back, so that his back is against the passenger door, leaning his head against the window, and hanging his left arm loosely over the back of the seat, his legs falling open. Dean stares at him, his pupils dilating, his lips slightly parted. Carefully, he settles between Castiel's legs, putting a hand on Cas' cheek, thumb brushing over his lips. Cas grins widely at the green-eyed boy, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss and pulling him fully down on top of him.

 

He puts his hands on Dean's sides, and Dean chuckles, breaking off the kiss after he bit gently in Cas' bottom lip. “Don't think I'm complaining – I would never – but... what has gotten into you?”

 

Cas huffs a laugh, shrugging his shoulders halfheartedly. “I don't know. I just guess... I'm much more confident about this now.” He threads his fingers through Dean's hair, who leans into the touch, lying down on top of him much more comfortably, and smiling softly at him. Castiel bites his lip – this is an appropriate moment to talk to Dean about what he's thinking about lately, right?

 

“What's on your mind?”

 

“Um... I've been thinking about something...,” Cas starts, continuing to run his fingers through Dean's hair. The green-eyed boy looks at him questioningly. “What we've been texting about after the movie marathon?” he asks, a grin spreading across his face.

 

“No, not exactly. But it has to do with that. I wanna try... _something.”_ He wrinkles his brow, but apparently Dean is able to read his mind. “You wanna fuck?”

 

They lock eyes, and after a few seconds Castiel nods.

 

“Now?” Dean asks. “Because I'd rather do it in bed the first time.”

 

Cas starts laughing, and flicks Dean's arm. “Not now. I just wanted to talk with you about it.” _Though, why is it so easy to talk with Dean about these things?_ Castiel doesn't feel uncomfortable at all.

 

Dean buries his face in the crook of Cas' neck, laughing softly along with him. At some point, Dean starts kissing his neck, nipping at his skin, and one of his hands wander down to Castiel's thigh, gripping it tightly. Cas groans at that, his hips jerking upwards involuntarily.

 

By the looks of it, their conversation is already over, but he really doesn't mind. Dean seems to be eager to fuck, and Cas wonders if the green-eyed boy already thought about it as well. Probably – and that's pretty _hot._

 

Only four days later, Castiel wakes up and it's Valentine's Day. He has to work at Missouri's shop from 9 am to 4 pm, and Dean wants to pick him up after his shift. Cas has to deal with a few guys, who totally forgot about Valentine's Day and want to buy something for their girlfriends now, but apart from that his day is relatively quiet. He gives the floor a sweep, and realizes that he's really looking forward to tonight. A smile flashes over his face. On the party last year he didn't dare to kiss Dean. Today, that won't be a problem at all.

 

Ten minutes to four, the bell above the door jingles, and Castiel sighs internally – he had hoped that there would be no more costumers, so that Dean and he could leave on time. What if this person needs some time to decide what they want to buy? He finishes filing some of Missouri's bills, looks up and is met with radiant green eyes and a beaming smile.

 

“Dean,” he says.

 

“Hey,” Dean says, leaning over the counter and kissing him gently.

 

“You're early.”

 

“Yeah.” Dean shrugs his shoulders, rubbing his neck. “I wanted to buy something.”

 

“Really?” Cas says. “And what?”

 

“Well, it's Valentine's Day,” Dean says lightly. “And I still don't have something for my boyfriend.”

 

Cas tilts his head, biting his lip. “Is that so? Maybe he doesn't want you to buy him something.”

 

“We did actually say no gifts on Valentine's Day,” Dean replies, looking behind the counter and biting his lip as well. “But I just want something small for him. What about these flowers?”

 

Castiel looks over his shoulder. Missouri's flower crowns are well-liked, and she ordered new artificial flowers to make more flower crowns. The flowers Dean points at were delivered only yesterday.

 

“Are these to be sold?” Dean asks, stepping behind the counter and taking a blue flower in his hand. “Because I'm pretty sure that he'd like them.”

 

“They are to be sold,” Cas answers, standing beside the green-eyed boy now. He takes the flower from Dean's hands and a few more, tying them up to a small flower bouquet.

 

“Perfect,” Dean says, smiling softly.

 

“He cute?” Cas wonders, raising an eyebrow at Dean.

 

“The cutest,” Dean says quietly.

 

Cas bites his lip again. “That will be eight dollars,” he says.

 

Dean chuckles, fishing his wallet out of his pocket. Castiel takes the money and puts it in the register. Dean wraps his arms around him from behind, putting his chin on his shoulder. “Do you like the flowers?” he mutters, a little sheepishly.

 

“They're beautiful,” Cas says, turning his head and pecking Dean on the cheek. “Thank you.”

 

“They're matching your eyes.”

 

“Is it just because of Valentine's Day, or is there any other reason why you're so... I don't know...,” Cas says, huffing a small laugh.

 

“I love you,” Dean says simply. “Am I not treating you like this on other days as well?” He presses his eyebrows together.

 

“Dean, you're treating me very well every single day,” Cas says quietly. “But you've never bought me flowers before.”

 

“I thought you like the flowers.”

 

“I do. I just...” He shrugs his shoulders once.

 

“Is it because you don't have something for me? Do you think it's too much what I'm doing, and you have the feeling that you're not doing enough?” Dean asks quietly.

 

Cas licks his lips, furrowing his brow. He wasn't able to explain what he's feeling, but somehow Dean knows exactly what's going on inside of him. He nods.

 

“You don't have to buy me something. After all, we did say no gifts,” Dean says gently. “It's more than enough for me to just have you, and to be able to call you mine.”

 

Cas starts to smile, huffing a breath and shaking his head. “I love you, too,” he says, and kisses Dean, pressing him against the counter. Immediately, Dean's hands slip into the back pockets of his jeans, pulling him closer and squeezing his ass. Castiel pulls away, moaning quietly. “Missouri would kill us, if we made out in her shop.”

 

“Ugh, probably true. Shall we leave?” Dean asks as Cas puts on his trenchcoat.

 

“Yeah, we can drive to me,” Cas answers. “I have to get ready for the party anyway.”

 

“Babe, the party starts in about three hours,” Dean says, seeming confused.

 

“I have to shower, and I also don't know yet what I'll wear.”

 

Dean lets out a deep sigh, rolling his eyes dramatically at him. Cas takes Dean's hand. “You'll stay like this?” he asks, letting his eyes wander from Dean's dark jeans, to his black shirt under his blue-white plaid shirt.

 

“Is something wrong with this?” the green-eyed boy wonders, looking down at himself and his clothes, slightly pressing his eyebrows together.

 

Cas huffs a laugh. “No, not all. You look handsome as ever. And I'll be more than proud to be with you at the party.”

 

Dean starts to grin, waiting for Castiel when he turns the sign on the door from **open** to **closed** and locks the door. Unfortunately, Missouri has a cold, so Castiel takes responsibility for the shop at the moment. She hates being sick, but she also admitted that it's pretty nice to have others care for her, at least for a few days. Cas grins at that. He knows that Kevin and Billie stay at Missouri's house this weekend. On the one hand, someone is looking after Missouri, and on the other hand, Sam also has some company. After all, everyone else is going to Anna's party.

 

They drive to his house, and Dean parks in their driveway. Lucifer isn't home yet, and Cas walks towards the staircase. “Make yourself at home,” he says. “I'll shower quickly.”

 

“Hey, wait,” Dean says, grabbing his waist. Castiel turns back around to the green-eyed boy, who's standing one step beneath him, so Cas is a little bit taller than Dean right now. “I could join you.”

 

“Sure. And then, my brother comes back home,” Cas says and grimaces. Dean presses his lips together. Castiel chuckles, slightly shaking his head, and kisses Dean softly. “I'll hurry up, okay?”

 

“Okay,” Dean grumbles, though he still flashes him a smile.

 

Castiel really hurries up – or at least, he tries to – and about 20 minutes later, he enters his bedroom with a white towel slung around his waist, and finds Dean sitting on his bed. The green-eyed boy bites his lip, his eyes raking over Cas' body, who huffs a breath and walks over to his closet. “Is Lucifer there?”

 

“No, not yet,” Dean says quietly, tentatively wrapping his arms around Cas' middle from behind and pressing a few kisses to the side of his neck.

 

“But he'll be home soon,” Castiel remarks, turning around and putting his hands against Dean's chest, in order to create some distance between their bodies. “Come on, we'll get enough time on the party, where it'll be just the two of us.”

 

Dean cocks his head to the side. “Can't wait for that.”

 

Cas grins at him, turning back around to his closet again and opening the door. It doesn't take him long to find an outfit he wants to wear tonight. Delighted, he notices that Dean still looks at him the same way as when he was barely clothed, when he's standing in front of him in his chosen outfit. Castiel wears dark washed out jeans and a white button-down shirt. “What do you think?”

 

“You look stunning,” Dean says simply, getting up. “Mh, but I have the feeling something's missing.”

 

“What would that be?” Castiel wonders, but Dean already started rummaging around in his closet. After a few moments, he turns around with a broad grin. “Come here.”

 

When Cas is standing right in front of him again, the green-eyed boy hangs a blue tie loosely around his neck. Cas snorts. “I've never worn that before.”

 

“Looks good, though. And it's quite handy,” Dean says lowly, grabbing the tie and carefully pulling Castiel closer, who laughs. “You really _are_ impossible.”

 

“And you really _love_ it,” Dean says, leaning forward and wanting to kiss him, when the front door gets opened and Lucifer calls for Castiel. Cas grins at Dean, and they leave the bedroom, going downstairs – though, Cas could swear that, when he closed his bedroom door behind them, Dean muttered something that sounded a lot like _cock blocker._

 

About two and a half hours later, Cas is sitting in the backseat of Lucifer's car, together with Dean and Benny, and Garth is riding shotgun. They talk about the party on the drive there, wondering if it will be like the one Anna threw last year, and after a little more than half an hour Lucifer drives through the gate and onto the property of the Milton's. There are already quite a few cars parked in the meadow, when Lucifer drives around the marble fountain that's still marking the middle of the small roundabout in front of the steps before the entrance. Castiel still likes this fountain very much.

 

They get out of the car, assuring Lucifer that they won't overdo and that they will call him, when they want to go home. Dean takes Castiel's hand, and they enter the house and the fray. Cas hasn't been here for a year – _why should he?_ – but he quickly realizes that nothing really changed.

 

“I think I saw Charlie,” Garth says, looking past Dean and leading the way. They follow him and actually find Charlie in the next room – well, her red hair is just eye-catching. But she's not alone; Dorothy and Gadreel are standing next to her. Charlie's hands are empty and she greets them with a sweeping hug, whereas Dorothy and Gadreel already have drinks in their hands.

 

“So, you're the designated driver tonight?” Benny asks Charlie, and she nods. “Yep. But that won't stop me from dancing with this beautiful lady.” She points at Dorothy, who rolls her eyes, but there's still a tiny smile touching the corners of her mouth.

 

“You wanna drink something, too?” Dean asks. Castiel nods, and they quickly find a table with drinks and snacks on it. In turn, Meg and Balthazar find them at the table, just as Dean takes a glass in his hand. “Look who's here!” Balthazar slings his arm around Castiel's shoulders.

 

“Hey,” Meg says, hugging Dean a little awkwardly, while trying not to spill her drink. “Where are the others?”

 

“I'd say Dorothy and Charlie are already dancing together somewhere,” Dean says, taking a sip from whatever it is that's in his glass. Meg rolls her eyes a bit, but she's smiling. She downs her drink with one gulp. “Dancing sounds like a hella good idea.”

 

“You wanna dance with me?” a voice behind them asks, and they all turn around in unison. Gabriel is standing in front of them, grinning from ear to ear and wearing one of his hideous Hawaiian shirts.

 

“Hell no,” Meg says and starts to laugh, when she sees the sulky expression on Gabriel's face. “Ugh, fine. One dance – but just because it's you.” They disappear into the crowd, while the others are still laughing.

 

“Well, Meg's not wrong. Dancing _does_ sound like a hella good idea,” Dean says to Castiel, flashing him a smile and holding his hand out for him to take. Cas starts to grin and drains his own glass before he takes Dean's hand, and they go into a different room, diving into the crowd just as a new song starts to play. Cas thinks he recognizes some love song by Taylor Swift, though he's not completely sure about it. He's also pretty distracted by Dean's hands on his waist right now.

 

The next hour or so goes by in a blur, and Cas only knows that he's in close proximity to Dean all the time, and every now and then they get something new to drink, but most of the time they're just dancing together. From time to time, Castiel also catches a glimpse of one or two of their friends.

 

The first time Dean and he separate that night is when Cas has to go to the bathroom. He weaves his way through the crowd, trying not to bump against someone and to avoid getting somebody's drink spilled onto him. Though, he arrives safely at a bathroom upstairs and locks the door behind him, once he made sure there's no one already in there. After he took a quick piss and washed his hands, he pauses and looks at his reflection in the mirror.

 

His cheeks are slightly flushed, his eyes are bright and twinkling, and there's a smile playing on his lips. Although he turns up his mouth, when he remembers the party in this house on last year's Valentine's Day – he was mad at himself for liking Dean, for feeling attracted to Dean, and for feeling so comfortable with the green-eyed boy. He was also so angry at himself, when he thought about kissing Dean. Cas huffs a breath. Sure, back then he thought that he couldn't allow himself to feel and think like _this_ about Dean, but today he knows he's able to, and it's the best feeling ever.

 

Castiel leaves the bathroom and goes back downstairs, biting his lip. It takes him a few minutes to find Dean in the crowd, and the green-eyed boy is not alone. At first, Cas thinks Charlie is standing next to Dean, but the girl's red hair is longer and she is taller than Charlie – Anna Milton. There's an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach all of a sudden, and a bad taste in his mouth. _Jealousy looks good on you._ Castiel shakes his head; that's so fucking stupid. After all, they're just talking, and when he's reached them, Anna is smiling friendly at him and Dean _is beaming_ at him – there couldn't possibly be more love in those green eyes. Cas starts to smile automatically.

 

“Castiel,” Anna says, giving him a brief hug. “Long time no see. How are you?”

 

“I'm good,” Cas answers. “What about you?”

 

“Me too. College is cool, but also stressful. That's why I thought throwing a little party could do me good.”

 

Dean chuckles at the words _a little party._ “It was an awesome idea,” he says, and Cas nods. They get interrupted by Gadreel, who's clearly drunk by now and throws an arm around Dean's shoulders. “You know,” he says, and his words are a little slurred, and apparently he doesn't notice Anna at all, “I'm really glad we're getting along now.”

 

“An awesome idea,” Anna repeats. Castiel shakes his head slightly. “Yep.”

 

“Dean told me about him and you,” Anna says suddenly. Cas knows she's looking at him from the side, and he tears his eyes away from Dean and Gadreel to look at her. “Okay.”

 

She huffs a small laugh. “I can't believe I was interested in Dean a year ago.”

 

Cas wrinkles his brow, wondering what's her point. He looks at her questioningly.

 

“Oh, no. Don't get me wrong. He's still handsome, but I just said that for me. I was just thinking out loud. A lot happened the past year, and I moved on from simple crushes on guys who don't even want to be together with me. I'm concentrating on myself at the moment.”

 

Castiel returns her smile. “That's good.”

 

“Though, now I know why Dean rejected me. You two are a really cute couple. He's crazy about you, Castiel.”

 

“I know,” Cas says, and his smile widens.

 

“You should have seen his face, when he talked about you. It's really sweet.”

 

Gadreel finally moved on to the next person, and Dean comes back to them. “I'm seriously regretting that we became kinda friends.”

 

“He's drunk, and he'll probably regret what he just said to you tomorrow,” Cas says, giggling.

 

“Well, I hope you continue to enjoy my party. It was good to see you, guys.” Anna hugs them both before she walks off.

 

As soon as she disappeared from view, Castiel puts his hands on either side of Dean's face and kisses him deeply. A little bit startled, Dean kisses him back, wrapping his arms around him, so that their bodies are pretty much entwined. Cas doesn't care about the people around them, but when they pull away, he notices that no one cares about them either. Everyone is occupied with dancing, drinking and talking, and doesn't pay much attention to what's happening around them.

 

“What was that for?” Dean asks, a bit breathlessly.

 

Castiel grins at him. “You told Anna about us.”

 

“Is that a problem?” Dean wonders, pressing his eyebrows together.

 

Cas shakes his head, still grinning. He's a little drunk, and he's really in love with this beautiful boy in front of him. _Beautiful._ Dean _is_ beautiful, and Castiel is finally able to allow his mind and his heart to think like this about Dean. Dean is beautiful, and he belongs to him. _Dean is his. Dean is his boyfriend._ And _beautiful_ is the first word that always comes to Castiel's mind, whenever he thinks about Dean.

 

Dean is still looking at him quizzically, but Cas just intertwines their fingers and pulls him along. They go upstairs and walk around a corner, promptly bumping into someone. But not just someone – it's Ash. “Hi, guys.”

 

“What are you doing here?” Cas asks, wide-eyed. Ash is literally the last person he expected to see in this house.

 

“I actually just came back and heard about the party. So I thought, why not crash it?”

 

Cas just thinks that that's a totally _Ash-thing-to-do,_ and Dean nods approvingly. _“Awesome.”_

 

Castiel rolls his eyes, but he returns Ash's grin nevertheless. “It's really good to see you.”

 

“You too. Well, I don't want to bother you any longer. You seemed like you were about to...”

 

“Don't you dare finish that sentence,” Castiel replies, squinting at Ash, who quickly lifts his hands defensively. Cas pulls Dean along with him, but he can't suppress another grin when Ash winks at them before he goes downstairs.

 

Cas and Dean walk down the hallway, and Cas opens some doors and has quick looks into different rooms – another bathroom, a storage room, a kind of walk-in closet – until he finds the kind of room he's been looking for. They enter a small bedroom.

 

Dean closes the door behind him. “Are we really about to...?”

 

“Of course, only if you want to,” Cas says, trying to shrug his shoulders as casually as possible.

 

The green-eyed boy steps closer and fiddles with the tie that's still hanging loosely around Cas' neck. Suddenly, Dean grabs the tie, winding it around his fist once and pulling him into a kiss. For a second, Castiel stiffens in Dean's arms, and even though it's only for a tiny moment, Dean notices it and breaks off the kiss. “Fuck, I'm sorry,” he mutters, letting go of the tie and tentatively putting his hands on either side of Castiel's face.

 

Cas swallows, shaking his head. “I'm okay. No need to apologize,” he says quietly. “You just caught me off guard.”

 

Dean bites his lip. “I'm still sorry. And I want to apologize.”

 

“Well, you just did, so we can forget about this again.” Castiel huffs a breath.

 

Dean nods slowly. “It's just... _damn,_ this tie has me weak.” He lets out a small, embarrassed chuckle.

 

Castiel feels the heat creeping up his neck, and he swallows. “Lock the door,” he says low-voiced.

 

Dean returns his look for a few more seconds, then he obeys silently, a small smile gracing his lips. Cas beckons him over, slowly opening the first button of his shirt. Dean shakes his head, gently taking Cas' hands. “No, no. Let me.”

 

Button after button, Dean opens Castiel's shirt, who shrugs it off and lets it fall to the floor. Again, Dean grabs the tie around his neck and pulls him along as he goes backwards to the bed. The green-eyed boy lets himself fall onto the bed, still pulling Castiel along, and therefore Cas lands on top of him. His drunk mind is weirdly clear right now, and he's actually glad about that, because otherwise he wouldn't be able to enjoy this and to know what he's doing.

 

He helps Dean out of his clothes, throwing the plaid shirt and the t-shirt somewhere next to the bed. Dean chuckles roughly, lifting his head and capturing Cas' lips in a deep kiss, instantly plunging his tongue into his mouth. A groan climbs up Castiel's throat, and he rolls his hips down against Dean's, when the green-eyed boy brushes his thumb over Cas' nipple. Dean starts to meet his thrusts right away, hands wandering over Castiel's back down to his ass, pulling him down even more. Castiel is the one, who pulls away first, when his cock is throbbing painfully in his tight jeans. In a matter of a few seconds, they help each other get out of their jeans and boxers.

 

“Can I...?” Dean asks, voice deliciously deep.

 

Cas doesn't know what exactly Dean is asking for – after all, they don't have any condoms or lube with them – but he just nods, trusting Dean. “Yes,” he breathes, allowing Dean to flip them over carefully, so that the green-eyed boy is on top of him.

 

Dean kisses him much more gently for a couple of moments, tracing his tongue along Cas' bottom lip before blanketing himself over Castiel. And during the next minutes, Cas completely disregards that they're in someone else's house, someone else's bedroom, that they're on a party, that their friends are in this house somewhere, that he can still hear the loud music in here, and just everything else. There's nothing but Dean – Dean on top of him, and Dean's dick right next to his own, and the thrills that are rolling through his body, when Dean starts to move and their cocks slide together. Again, Dean dips his tongue into Castiel's mouth, who's moaning relentlessly. He doubts that anyone will hear them, though he can't find it in him to care about this right now, not when there's so much bare skin on bare skin.

 

Castiel's hands wander up and down Dean's muscular back and over his shoulders, holding fast on to him as the arousal sparks a firework in his lower abdomen. Neither of them lasts very long, and they come together. Cas feels ecstasy shooting through his body, when he feels Dean's dick twitiching against his own as their cum splashes between them, covering both of their bellies. He's breathing hard, swallowing. “Oh, fuck,” he murmurs, absentmindedly running his hands through Dean's hair, who's still lying on top of him, panting and trying to catch his breath.

 

“Couldn't agree more.” Dean chuckles and lifts his head. “Come on, gorgeous. Let's get cleaned up and go back before the others come up with the idea of looking for us.”

 

Cas grimaces, and they get up. Dean finds some handkerchiefs and wipes the cum off their stomachs. Castiel's tie is also stained with cum, and he presses his lips together, taking it off and throwing it away as well. “I'll get you a new one,” Dean says, not able to suppress his grin. “You look really hot with a tie.”

 

“It's not suitable for daily use anyway.” Castiel huffs a small laugh, and Dean shrugs his shoulders.

 

They get dressed, and Cas has a look in the mirror that's hanging on the wall. His hair is even messier than usual, the strands are sticking up at odd angles. He sighs, trying to smooth his hair down. Dean wraps his arms around his middle from behind, giggling at his attempts to tame his hair. “Sex hair,” Dean says, pressing a kiss to the side of Cas' neck.

 

Castiel looks at Dean's reflection in the mirror. “And you don't look any better,” he says, eyeing Dean's messed up hair.

 

“Well, that's not suspicious at all,” Dean says, tightening his grip and sighing.

 

“Mh, let's go,” Cas says, taking Dean's hand and intertwining their fingers. Dean pecks him on the lips one last time, and then they leave the bedroom. The hallway is empty and they go back downstairs, where the party is still in full swing. Somehow, Castiel feels more drunk right now, but also a little tired after his orgasm.

 

He follows Dean back into the crowd, and soon they're dancing together again until Charlie and Meg find and join them. Castiel doesn't know for how long they dance with the girls, whereas Meg is just as drunk as they are. When Balthazar finds them as well some time later, and announces that there's a karaoke machine in one room, Dean grabs Cas' wrist and they follow Balthazar.

 

“What are we doing?” Cas asks, laughing.

 

“Karaoke!” Dean exclaims.

 

“I don't sing,” Castiel says determinedly, shaking his head.

 

“But I do,” Dean says, grinning broadly at him and kissing him once. Cas chuckles. “You're drunk,” he says.

 

“So?” Dean asks, turning around just as some guy finishes a slow version of Madonna's _Like A Virgin._

 

“Who's next?” Gabriel calls, and Dean raises his hand, walking over to him.

 

Cas thinks he falls a little more in love with Dean in the next minutes, while Dean sings first _Highway to Hell,_ successfully making everyone in the room laugh and clearly showing off. When the song ends, Dean dramatically takes a bow before he points at Castiel, who's leaning against the wall at the back of the room. Cas looks at him with wide eyes, but Dean just smiles at him. “The next song is for my boyfriend.”

 

Gabriel cheers loudly, looking over at Cas, who scoffs and shakes his head as Dean starts singing _I Like Me Better_ by Lauv. He bites his lip, while his heart is hammering in his chest – who would have thought that he'd be able to love Dean even more.

_I don't know what it is but I got that feeling_  
_Waking up in this bed next to you, swear the room – yeah – it got no ceiling_  
_If we lay, let the day just pass us by_  
_I might get to too much talking, I might have to tell you something_  
  
_Damn_  
  
_I like me better when I'm with you_  
_I like me better when I'm with you_  
_I knew from the first time, I'd stay for a long time_  
_'Cause I like me better when_  
_I like me better when I'm with you_

 

A few girls get a little teary-eyed, but Castiel has never been more steady. With a big grin on his face, Dean comes over to him when he's done, and Cas just kisses him, not caring about all the people around them. “I love you,” he whispers against Dean's lips, not even sure if the green-eyed boy can actually here him, because the loud music from the other room is seeping into this room as well, and someone else also just started to sing.

 

Dean smiles at him, and they leave the karaoke room, getting two more drinks from one of the tables. “Happy Valentine's Day,” Dean says loudly, clinking his glass against Castiel's. “I love you,” Cas repeats, loud enough for Dean to hear this time.

 

“I love you, too.” Dean downs his drink with one gulp. “Dance with me,” he says, holding his hand out for Cas to take, as if they hadn't already danced together the majority of the time they're here. Cas rolls his eyes at the green-eyed boy, but he still starts to smile and takes Dean's hand, letting him lead him into the middle of the room, where Charlie and Dorothy are dancing together as well.

 

 _Happy Valentine's Day,_ Cas thinks as Dean puts his hands on his waist once again, his own arms coming up around Dean's shoulders. The green-eyed boy moves his hands to Cas' back, pulling him flush against him and crushing their mouths together once again, dragging a groan from Castiel's throat. Cas kisses Dean back, and he hopes that the party is never going to end, or that at least this moment is never going to end, because he could kiss this beautiful boy forever.

 

It's Valentine's Day, he's drunk and in love, and he still knows that he belongs right here – in Dean's arms with his lips pressed against his lips, and Dean is holding him so tightly as if he didn't intend on ever letting him go again. And Castiel is totally fine with that.

 

 

* * *

 

 

For an immeasurable amount of minutes, Dean just loses himself in kissing Castiel, in being pressed up against the blue-eyed boy. One of Cas' hands rests on the side of his neck, fingers curling around his neck and thumb moving gently over his cheek. Cas' other hand just slipped under Dean's shirt, ghosting over his ribs, and making Dean shudder. His grip on Castiel's waist tightens, especially when Cas' teeth nip at his bottom lip.

 

Slowly but surely, Dean becomes oblivious to everything around him – to all the other drunk people, who are dancing as well, and to the loud music that's still blasting out. Only Castiel exists at the moment, only the blue-eyed boy matters at the moment.

 

He doesn't know when they stop kissing, but suddenly Castiel is smiling at him again, his blue eyes sparkling like a million stars in the dim light of the room. Dean automatically smiles back at him. They keep dancing until Dean's bladder is demanding his attention. He kisses Cas before he says, “I'll be right back.”, and the blue-eyed boy nods once.

 

Dean goes upstairs, remembering that there was a bathroom here somewhere, and after two minutes he finds it. When he relieved himself and washed his hands, he runs his fingers through his hair, smiling widely at his reflection in the mirror. So far, this party is a complete success – he's drunk, he's kissing Castiel a lot, they're dancing a lot, they made out and Dean had a mind-blowing orgasm. He lets out a chuckle, blinking at himself. When did he get so fucking lucky?

 

His head is spinning a little, when he leaves the bathroom and closes the door behind him, and he puts one hand against the wall to steady himself again. Dean doesn't know why, but before he makes his way back downstairs, he looks both ways. When he looks right, there are more doors along the walls and at the end of the hallway, there's the staircase that leads downstairs. When he looks left, there are even more doors and at the end of the hallway, there's a window with a white vase full of lilac flowers in front of it on the window sill and one could turn left and right into another hallway. When Dean went upstairs and entered the bathroom, the hallway was empty. Now, there's someone leaning against the wall next to the window, almost casually, and the sight alone sends a more than unpleasant chill down Dean's spine, because even after all the time that has passed since the last time they've seen each other, that face is still far too familiar – cold eyes, eerie grin, a superior expression on his face; Alastair hasn't changed.

 

Cold fury is running through Dean's veins, when Al raises his hand and waves at him once. “Hello, Dean.”

 

Without thinking about it, Dean's body starts to move and he's walking towards Al. “You!” he says and his voice is shaking with rage. He wants nothing more than to beat the living daylights out of that piece of shit. But Alastair seems to be aware of Dean's intentions and starts to move as well, though he's stirring out of Dean, never breaking eye contact.

 

“It was really good to see you Dean,” Al says, still grinning. “And Castiel, of course. But I'm afraid I don't have any time to actually talk with you.” With that, he runs off down the hallway and Dean follows him, turning around the corner just in time to see Alastair disappearing into a room.

 

Dean keeps running and storms into that room, the cold wind that's coming inside through the open window gives him the shivers right away. He runs towards the window and looks outside. It's dark and there's no trace of Alastair, but the lights downstairs illuminate the lawn and there's a ladder, laying right beneath this window. Dean curses, pounding his fist against the window frame. His heart is beating frantically in his chest.

 

He fucking _hates_ this guy.

 

With a scowl, he goes back downstairs, rudely shoving people away, but no one seems to notice it, they're all still drunk and dancing. He finds Castiel standing next to one of the tables, talking with Balthazar and Gadreel. For a second, Cas' face lights up when he sees Dean, but then his brow furrows. Dean forces a smile towards Balthazar and Gadreel, and tugs at Castiel's arm. “I need to talk to you.”

 

Cas nods and takes his hand, flashing their friends an apologetic smile, but they're too wasted to notice that something's wrong. Dean follows the blue-eyed boy to the front door and outside. As soon as the door is closed behind them, the music's quieter and Dean has the feeling it's easier to think. He breathes in the cold night air, and they sit down on the steps in front of the entrance.

 

“What happened? Where were you?” Castiel asks immediately, looking at him worriedly from the side. “You look pale.”

 

Dean swallows and clenches his jaw. “Alastair was there.”

 

“What?”

 

“Yeah, he was upstairs, when I came out of the bathroom,” Dean says, feeling his anger still pumping through his veins. He rubs his neck. “Fucking hell, he was stalking us again. And then he ran away, and I was too slow and didn't catch him.”

 

“You ran after him?” Cas asks flabbergasted.

 

“Yes,” Dean says, confused because that's what seems to worry the blue-eyed boy the most.

 

“What if he hadn't just ran away? What if he had wanted to hurt you?”

 

“Cas, I'm fine,” Dean says gently, giving Castiel's hand a sqeeze. “Nothing happened. But you're right, I didn't really think about it.” He sighs and looks around.

 

“And what do we do now?” Castiel wonders, leaning more against him. Dean shrugs a little. “There's not much we can do.”

 

“Should we call the police?”

 

“And tell them... what? Alastair didn't do anything. He could have attacked me or something, but he just disappeared again. No one else saw him, and I'm also drunk, what means I'm not the ideal eye witness.”

 

Castiel lets out a small chuckle. “You know what we can do?”

 

“What?” Dean asks, turning his head to the blue-eyed boy again, and Cas leans in, kissing him softly.

 

“Let's go back inside and dance some more,” Cas suggests quietly, getting up and not letting go of Dean's hand. Dean just nods and follows him back inside, mingling with the crowd again and trying not to think about that fucking psychopath.

 

Fortunately, Castiel is very good at distracting Dean, so they're having some more fun until they leave the party around three in the morning. There was a change of plan, and Charlie already called Lucifer and let him know that Dean and Castiel are going to stay at her place tonight, just like Dorothy and Meg.

 

Everyone but Charlie is drunk – to a greater or lesser extent –, so the return is pretty exhausting for the redhead, especially because Dean and Dorothy start to sing along to a _Pink Floyd_ song that comes on the radio. But when they arrive at Charlie's home and she asks them to be quiet, since her mom is asleep, they all oblige.

 

Dorothy and Meg can sleep in Charlie's room – Dorothy in her bed and Meg on an airbed – and Charlie whispers to Cas and him that they can crash on the couch. She gets two sweatpants that belong to Castiel for them; she kept them after Cas stayed overnight for a couple of days once. Neither Dean nor Cas questions it, and they quickly change clothes, while Charlie also brings them pillows and blankets. Then, they say good night, and Dean falls asleep a few moments after his head hits the pillow and Castiel lied down on top of him.

 

A couple of hours later, Cas wakes him up with a kiss and tells him that Charlie's mum made coffee. The girls are still asleep, and they let them sleep, having a quiet breakfast together. Dean hooks his ankle with Castiel's and presses a kiss to Cas' shoulder, too tired and also a bit too hungover to speak much.

 

They clean up the kitchen, thanking Mrs Bradbury for the coffee and the sandwiches, and asking her to give Charlie, Dorothy and Meg regards from them, before they leave and start to walk to Castiel's house. Dean catches Cas' hand in mid-air, coaxing a chuckle out of the blue-eyed boy. They walk in silence until they turn the corner and arrive in Cas' street. Dean looks around, but he notices right away when Castiel slows down. He looks at him questioningly; Castiel is furrowing his brow, and Dean follows his gaze. He sees it instantly, the unfamiliar car in the driveway in front of the Novak's house.

 

“Did anyone want to come by?” Dean asks slowly. Cas shoots him a look and shakes his head.

 

They keep walking, and Cas only hesitates for a second or two before he enters the house. Dean takes one last look over his shoulder at the car, and with a bad feeling that's pressing nastily against his heart he follows the blue-eyed boy into the house.

 

Lucifer instantly comes out of the kitchen, an angry expression on his face that only causes to increase the bad feeling inside of Dean. Castiel swallows, pressing his lips tightly together. “What's wrong?” Dean asks quietly.

 

“Dad is here,” Lucifer answers bitterly.

 

“That's not dad's car,” Cas remarks, darting a glance at Dean, who knows that they're thinking the same – Dean hasn't met Castiel and Lucifer's father. Dean doesn't even want to meet him, and he also knows that Cas doesn't want him to meet his father.

 

“Yeah,” Lucifer says, shuffling his feet as if he felt uncomfortable.

 

“What?” Cas asks sternly.

 

Lucifer lets out a deep sigh. “He's... he's not alone. They arrived half an hour ago.”

 

“Who is _they?”_ Castiel asks, looking past his brother down the hallway, where their living room is. They can hear voices – a man says something and a woman starts to laugh. _Oh._ Dean closes his eyes for a moment; the penny dropped.

 

“Dad and...,” Lucifer hesitates, briefly looking at Dean before looking back at his little brother. “And his new girlfriend.”

 

Dean bites his bottom lip, looking at his boyfriend and thinking that that's a fucking rude surprise.

 


End file.
